


The Mad Hatter's Crew

by GamerAlexis



Series: Welcome to Wonderland [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - GTA, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Fake AH Crew, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light BDSM, M/M, Psychopaths In Love, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamerAlexis/pseuds/GamerAlexis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray Narvaez Jr. and Ryan Haywood had taken over Los Santos.  There wasn't a gang or mob who could stand up to these two insane criminals.  They took what they wanted at their leisure and destroyed anyone in their way.  Rumors spread like wildfire about Brownman and the Vagabond and their twisted relationship.  No one dared to mess with them.</p><p>Except for one crazy son of a bitch.</p><p>Geoff Ramsey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ray trotted into the suite, bag slung over his shoulder.  He had just finished terrorizing a couple of drug dealers to working for him and Ryan.  It only took one murder and half a dozen mutilations.  That was a new record.  He tossed the bag onto the kitchen table where it landed with a wet thud.  He threw his mask down next to it.  He was covered in blood.  It was drying thickly on his shirt and pants and itchy on his skin.

"Honey, I'm home!" he shouted.

Ryan poked his head out of the bathroom.  His hair was damp and there were droplets of water still sticking to his skin.  Ray wanted to fucking wreck that.  He's always wanted to wreck Ryan, to watch him beg and plead.  Ryan stepped forward, completely naked, and practically sauntered to the kitchen.  Ray licked his lips.  Ryan had the body of a fucking god.  Strong arms and broad shoulders, chiseled abs and thick thighs.  Ray had spent hours worshiping every bit of Ryan's body, memorizing every dip and ridge with his mouth.

"Didja bring me a present?" Ryan's voice was rough and hazy as he reached for the bag.

"Only the best for you," Ray wrapped his arms around Ryan as he opened the bag.

Inside was a severed head of the man who almost took down their drug operation.  He was cocky and foolish, thought he could turn down their world.  His face was still wide with fear, blood blackened and congealed.  Ryan gave a small gasp and touched the face gingerly.

"We should keep his eyes," Ryan said, fingers trailing up the dead man's cheeks.  "They're very pretty."

"Not as pretty as yours," Ray mumbled into Ryan's bare shoulder.  "You smell so good, babe.  Fresh and clean."

"Wanna dirty me up again?" Ryan turned his head slightly so his cheek was pressed up against Ray's head.

"Do I ever."

Ryan turned quickly, grabbing Ray by the waist and hoisting him up to the table.  He nestled between Ray's legs and pulled him in for a bruising kiss.  Ray fell in love with Ryan's kisses long ago.  The hard, biting pressure as Ryan's tongue plundered his mouth.  There was a slick, sensual slide to it that hinted to the burning passion that filled him up.  Ray loved Ryan's kisses because they were a promise for the serious fucking he was getting later.

Heavy hands were pressed tight on Ray's waist, hard enough for bruises.  Ray reached up and grabbed fistfuls of Ryan's damp hair, tipping his head back and breathing in.  Fuck, he loved it, loved this.  Sharp nails scratched up Ray's back and he gasped.

"Your blood is much prettier on you than this guy's," Ryan breathed into Ray's mouth.  His hands slid down and pulled Ray's knife from his jeans.  "Care to fix that?"

"Fuck, yes."

Ray felt the cold knife trail against the bare skin between jeans and shirt.  He felt Ryan's grin against his mouth, then his shirt was cut open.  The cold air hit his bare skin and Ray instinctively curled closer to Ryan.  Shit.  He liked that shirt.  Probably would have had to get rid of it anyway.  Blood stains and all that.

"I love it when you're pushy," Ray mumbled, pulling Ryan close enough to wrap his legs around Ryan's waist.  "Are you gonna fuck me on the table?  Or carry me to the bed?"

"Thought I could do it against the wall, but I'm not picky.  Your clothes are gonna be a problem real soon though."

Ryan reached down and slid Ray's jeans over his hips, hand brushing his erection.  Ray jolted up to the touch and threw his head back.  Instantly, there were teeth biting at his neck.  The sharp pain sent sparks of arousal straight to his dick.  God, their fuck in the morning suddenly felt like eons ago.  Ray wanted Ryan balls deep in him hours ago.  He shimmied out of his jeans and let Ryan press up close.

"I'm gonna fuck you on the table first," Ryan growled into Ray's throat.  "Then the floor and the sofa.  Maybe if you're good, we can do it up against the window.  Let all of Los Santos see who we really are."

Ray was so fucking ready.  Torture and murder always made him horny as fuck.  He wanted Ryan pounding into him so hard he saw stars.  He wanted to scream until he lost his voice.  He wanted to cover Ryan in blood and sweat and cum, wanted to suck him off until Ryan was a babbling pile of goo.

Then there was a pounding on the door.

"Ignore it," Ryan hissed, grinding their hips together.

The pounding came again.

"No one would dare bother us," Ryan said.  "We own this city."

"Someone's fucking trying."

This time the pounding was matched with a loud shout.

"Fuck it, that's it," Ray pushed Ryan away.  "I'm gonna fucking kill whoever is on the other side of that door.  Don't try and fucking stop me.  They are dead."

Not caring that he was naked, hard, and covered in blood, Ray grabbed his favorite pistol and stormed towards the door.  Fuck whoever decided to interrupt them.  If Ray wasn't in the middle of some excellent foreplay, he would have tortured that asshole.  But, seeing as he and Ryan were about to get to some excellent, mind blowing sex, the bastard was going to die.

Ray threw open the door, gun held out.  Standing there was a man in a suit, mustache curling over his lips.  He had tattoos up his arms and down to his hands.  He was casual and aloof, despite Ray's obvious situation.  Ryan slid up behind him, bare arm tight around bare hips.  The man seemed entirely unfazed.

"Just the two bastards I wanted to see," the man grinned, voice surprisingly chipper.  "I'm Geoff Ramsey and I want you to join my motherfucking crew."


	2. Chapter 2

Somehow, despite all that they've done to keep their hold on Los Santos, Ray and Ryan had let Geoff fucking Ramsey build up a crew.  He didn't commit any heists, not even a petty gas station robbery.  He didn't mess with the drug rings Ray and Ryan carefully created.  He simply gathered up a group of criminals and waited for the right time.

It was so stealthy, so well thought out, that Ray was baffled.  He was actually stunned silent, something that never happens.  He had been at the game for fucking years.  Nothing was supposed to surprise him anymore.

Geoff was sitting in their kitchen, lounging in his chair, feet kicked up on the table.  He looked perfectly at ease for being the presence of Los Santos's biggest and baddest.  Ray and Ryan had both put on a pair of sweats and were standing at the end of the table, arms crossed.  Ryan was standing protectively beside Ray, a hot and heavy presence pressed up against him.

"You are fucking insane," Ray finally said after Geoff spelled out his story.

"Look, I get you," Geoff said, leaning forward.  "You two work together and only together, I respect that kinda loyalty.  But everyone in this fucking town knows you.  They know who you are, what you do, everything.  I just want to utilize your skills in a more... productive way than you are."

"Excuse me?"

"You two are fucking maniacs.  You run this place and all the bitches in it.  But you're living beneath your potential.  You're just two men, well, one man and a kid, using your reputation to keep yourselves afloat.  You know what the fuck I'm talking about.  Fucking cronies standing up to you, right?  The criminals here talk a lot.  They want to rise up and tear you down."

"That's not happening," Ryan said.  "They know better."

"You ever heard of a mutiny before?" Geoff asked.  "No matter what scary son of a bitch captains a ship, sometimes people rise up and take it for themselves.  You are right on the fucking edge of one."

"And if we join your crew then this mutiny won't happen?"

"Consider it insurance.  You join the crew and it'll be ours.  This city wouldn't dare fight up against six psychos."

"Six?"

Geoff smiled.  Ray shivered.  Ryan smiled like a Cheshire cat, all teeth and the promise to eat him up alive.  Geoff's smile was soft and sinister, a slight curve of lips and narrowing of the eyes.  His smile threatened Ray to his core.  For the first time since hooking up with Ryan, Ray felt the slight tinge of fear.

"Why don't you come meet the boys?"

Hours later, fully dressed and cleaned up, Ray and Ryan skidded their motorcycle in front of the apartment Geoff directed them to.  Ray's nerves were singing with anticipation.  He just wanted to meet this crew, tell them no, and go back to fucking Ryan in their place.  Whatever this crew was, whoever Geoff was, it didn't matter.  They were all the same to Ray.  Just men who wanted more but were too afraid to take it.  Ray killed these kind of men for fun.

They stepped into the elevator and Ryan jabbed the button.  Ray adjusted the bag on his shoulder as the doors close.  Geoff's words were haunting him.  What if he was right?  They had been losing their hold over Los Santos.  This was hardly the first drug dealing they'd had to oversee and definitely not the first minion they've had to murder.

"Do you think he was right?" Ray asked softly.  "About the criminals rising up against us."

"I've seen it before," Ryan said shortly.

"Is it going to happen to us?"

Ryan looked down at Ray, mouth spread in a wide smile.  "Not on my watch."

Ray nodded, smiling softly in return.  Ryan leaned down and kissed him softly, lips dragging up to his ear.  "When this is over, I'm gonna fuck you until you scream."

"You better," Ray whispered.

The elevator pinged and opened.  Geoff was there, smirking at the sight of Ryan and Ray pressed up together.  He had changed from his suit into a pair of jeans and t-shirt.  He gestured for them to come in.  The apartment was massive, almost as big as theirs.  It had an open floor plan with the back wall made entirely of windows.  Standing around the kitchen table were three men.

One of the man was huge with a thick gingery beard.  His hands were pressed on the table.  Beside him were two men, grinning and pushing at each other.  One had hair that stuck up all over the place and long, lanky limbs.  The other had curly hair and freckles, a gun held loosely in his hand.  It was meant to look casual, but Ray could see his finger on the trigger.

"Let's get introductions outta of the way quick," Geoff said, pulling Ryan and Ray to the table.  "Beardo there is Jack Patillo, my best man.  Bastard can fly us anywhere in any situation.  Never failed us yet.  The one with the birds nest hair is Gavin Free.  He's a British asshole but explosions are his specialty.  Chaos is pretty much all he's good for, and a pretty face.  Last is Michael Jones.  He has literally the biggest fucking arsenal I've ever seen.  You two join in, and we'll be a full crew."

Ray glanced up at Ryan, trusting his judgement.  Ryan had been working with crime lords while Ray was still doing drug deals.  He knew the ins and outs of a crew or a mob.  He was the one who insisted they remain a duo instead of a crew.  He knew what was best for them and had never led them astray.  Ryan looked like he was considering the offer, but his eyes were cold.

"Well, this has been interesting," Ryan said, voice tight.  "But we really work better alone."

Ray reached around, arm snaked to rest on Ryan's hips.  His fingers dipped into the waistband, brushing against Ryan's gun.  Michael's hand tightened on his gun.  Gavin's eyes widened.  Jack stood up a bit straighter.  Geoff looked entire unflappable.

"See, we've tried the whole, crew thing before, didn't work out for us," Ryan continue easily as Ray practically plastered himself against his side.  "We were a little too... abnormal for them.  They didn't want us, so we don't want them."

"One heist," Geoff said.  "Give us one heist before you sign off of us."

"One heist?" Ray chuckled.  "You fuckers are gonna run for the hills within a week.  Guaranteed."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that.  There's an empty room down the hallway.  You two are welcome to stay for the duration of the heist, planning to payoff.  Stay here with us, give us a fucking chance.  Trust me.  We're not like the other crews you've worked with."

Ray scoffed and let go of Ryan.  He dug into the bag at his feet and pulled out the head he'd offered to Ryan.  He slammed it onto the table.

"This was the man who thought he could double cross us," Ray said.  "Are you certain you want to work with us?"

"Oh sweet!" Gavin cooed, dropping down to look at the severed head.  "I keep telling Geoff we need a bloody head in this place but he won't listen to me."

"That's because heads rot, dipshit," Michael pushed at Gavin, a fond smile on his face.  "You have your fucking collection of skulls."

"But Michael!"

Jack sighed wearily, "I'll get a damn jar."

For the second time in a few hours, Ray was completely dumbfounded.  He turned to look at Ryan.  His beautiful, frightening Cheshire cat in this Los Santos wonderland who kept them safe.  No matter what happened, Ray could always trust Ryan with his life.  Whether or not that was safe or sane was out of the question.  Ray would follow Ryan to the ends of the world, biting and screaming the whole way.  Turning away from Geoff's crew, Ray locked eyes with Ryan.  For the first time since they met up, Ryan looked confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Official jobs for the Fake AH Crew. These are only what they're best at, not always what they're confined to do (because they're all a little bit psychopathic)
> 
> Geoff- Mastermind.  
> Jack- Escape driver and voice of reason  
> Gavin- Demolitions expert  
> Michael- Chief interrogator and weapons specialist  
> Ray- Sniper and conman  
> Ryan- IT guy and psychopath


	3. Chapter 3

Gavin grabbed the severed head and plopped it into the jar Jack held out for him.  He screwed the lid on and stared at it.  Gavin was never allowed to keep the severed heads he got.  Bunch of bullshit honestly.  But this head was so pretty, Gavin didn't mind.  It was translucent white with pale blue veins spider-webbing underneath the skin.  Blood was caked black on the neck.

Ryan and Ray had disappeared while Gavin had been fawning over the head.  Geoff had taken Jack by the hand and went to the heist room, whispering softly on the way.  With luck, they would get a good fucking in there too.  Michael slid up next to Gavin, arms wrapped around his hips.

"Goddammit, Gav," Michael whispered in his ear.  "You're so fucking hot when you get all psycho like this."

"Do you mind?" Gavin said with false anger.  "I'm trying to admire my shiny new severed head.  I bet Caleb knows how to preserve it.  I could keep it forever."

Michael nuzzled into Gavin's neck, breath hot and damp on the skin there.  Gavin shivered.

"I could get you a fucking head," Michael mumbled.  "I could bring you dozens of damn heads.  Shit, if you wanted a fucking body, I'd bring you one to tear apart.  Just say the fucking word and I'll do it."

Something in Gavin's chest warmed up at the sound of Michael's voice.  He sounded so petulant like this and Gavin could feel Michael's pout against his neck.  His arms were tight around Gavin's waist.  Protective.

"Are you jealous?" Gavin couldn't stop the glee from his voice.  Michael mumbled something and buried his face into Gavin's neck.  "You are!  Oh, my mingy little boi, you're jealous!"

"Shut the fuck up Gavin.  I'm not fucking jealous," Michael growled.

"Don't be jealous," Gavin turned to face Michael.  He framed Michael's face with his thin fingers, locking their eyes.  "You're my boi, Michael.  I've got you, Geoff, and Jack.  Just because these two brought me a pretty head doesn't mean I don't love you."

"I know, boi, I know," Michael sighed.

"How about you and I go find some poor bastard?" Gavin suggested, his fingers trailing back to Michael's hair and burying into the curls there.  He pulled their foreheads together and breathed.  "We can go murder him and make him suffer.  We can take him apart limb by limb, see his heart beating in his chest.  How does that sound, boi?  Team Nice Dynamite?"

Michael leaned forward and pressed their lips together.  Gavin opened up instantly, letting Michael's mouth slide against his.  It was wet and slick and Gavin tugged at Michael's hair, a whine building in the back of his throat.

Fucking Christ, Michael's kisses were filled with the same direct fury he did everything else with.  Hard and insistent, Michael kissed Gavin breathless, fingers digging into Gavin's hips.  Gavin was taller than Michael by mere inches but these kisses left him shrinking with want.

"Do you still wanna go find some guy?" Michael whispered into Gavin's mouth.  "Or shall we go see if Geoff and Jack are busy?"

"Don't want them," Gavin gasped, his hips unconsciously thrusting against Michael.  "Just you and me, boi."

Michael grinned and dragged Gavin down the hallway.  "Just you and me then."

* * *

The instant Geoff and Jack stepped into the heist room, Geoff was pressed up against the wall, and not in a sexy way either.  Jack's normally calm face was twisted with fury.  It was so rare to see Jack furious that Geoff almost took a step back.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jack hissed.  "Ryan and Ray?  Are you trying to get us all fucking killed?"

"Relax, sweetheart, I know what I'm doing."

"Really?  Because getting the two most insane, psychopathic men to join our crew doesn't sound like you fucking know shit!"

Geoff barked out a laugh.  "Gavin just asked you for a jar to preserve a human head in and you think Ryan and Ray are the fucking crazy ones?  We're all a little bit mad here."

"Yeah but... we know Gavin," Jack said.

"And we can get to know these guys too," Geoff insisted.  "Come on, Jack.  These two bastards have Los Santos wrapped around their finger but they need a crew and we need bigger numbers.  It is literally the perfect option."

"What if they decide not to join us?" Jack asked.  "One heist is hardly enough to consider joining a crew."

"A lovable bunch of shitheads like us?" Geoff laughed.  "They'll be with us in no time."

Jack folded his arms, lips pressed tight together.  Geoff sighed and reached out to touch Jack's arm gently.  He hated seeing Jack like this, closed off an angry.  It was such a rare expression on his face and Geoff felt almost guilty for causing it.  He just couldn't go back on this fucking thing.  Ryan and Ray were good but didn't have any direction.  Geoff has too much direction, too many plans, and not enough fire power.

What he, Jack, Gavin and Michael had though, it worked.  Somehow, in some strange, fucking way, it worked.  They were twisted up around each other so tight that there was no fucking way anyone was tearing them apart.

"I love you," Geoff said, fingers brushing down Jack's cheek.  "I fucking love you and Gavin and Michael.  There isn't fucking anything on God's green earth that can take you away from me.  Fucking got it?"

Jack leaned into Geoff's touch.  "You've heard the rumors about them."

"Everyone's heard the rumors about them," Geoff said.  "They're just as fucking crazy as we are."  He pressed their foreheads together.  "Tomorrow, we'll scout out the joint.  Get the boys to warm up to us."

Jack smiled softly, his thick hands resting on Geoff's waist, hot and tight and secure.

"You're fucking obsessed with this crew, aren't you?"

"Fucking AH crew," Geoff grinned wickedly.

"You're a fucking crazy bastard," Jack chuckled, kissing Geoff lightly.  "What does AH stand for anyway?"

"Fuck if I know."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in this verse AH doesn't stand for Achievement Hunter. It'll stand for a variety of things as the fic progresses.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very pleased with the last chapter but I refuse to get rid of it. Hoping this one balances it out.
> 
> Also, I accidentally closed my window and lost all I had written first. Fuck my life. I FUCKING DID IT TWICE.
> 
> Side Note: Novocaine by Fall Out Boy is another fucking fantastic Raywood song.

The plan was simple.  Separate the crew.  Ryan was going to take Geoff and Jack to pick up some things at their apartment while Ray got friendly with Michael and Gavin.   If they played their cards right, Ray and Ryan could scare the shit out of this punk-ass crew and move on.  Gavin pulled a quick stunt on them earlier with the head, but Ray wasn't about to let it happen again.  He gave Ryan the longest, passionate good-bye kiss he could muster, intent on staking his claim.

"This will work fine," Ryan whispered.  "I'll be back before you know it."

"You better," Ray whispered back.  "And please bring my favorite knife."

The elevator dinged and the three men stepped into it.  Ryan's cheeks were still flushed and his lips were shiny and red.  He smiled that fucking grin and Ray knew he was getting so fucking laid tonight.  The doors slid shut and Ray let out a sigh.  It was time to go past creepy and straight into fucking psychopath.  Gavin and Michael wouldn't know what the fuck hit them.

He turned around, the psychopathy rising up in him.  He learned from Ryan that there were times to be crazy and times to not be.  That no matter how insane he wanted to be, no matter how much he wanted to torture and kill and mutilate, he had to spend time being sane.  It was really fucking stupid, but Ryan was right.  It felt nice to play normal for a while.  Their own twisted version of fantasy.

Now, however, it was time to bring up every dirty trick he had ever learned in Los Santos.  He had a small knife in his pants, not nearly as smooth or well balanced as the one Ryan was picking up for him, but it did the job.

The apartment was empty.  At least the front room was because unless they jumped off the roof, Michael and Gavin were in here somewhere.  Probably banging if Ray was reading their looks right.

Fucking hell.  Ray's skin was itching like it hadn't in years, not since he was dealing drugs in back alleys.  It was an itch that kept him alive when he should have been dead.  It pushed him to his career as a freelance sniper.

He didn't like this fucking suite.  It was too open, too white, too clean.  The flat screen TV looked huge on the wall, surrounded by a massive speaker system and at least a dozen consoles.  The kitchen was chrome with granite counters.

It was a far cry from his own place, which was dark and cozy, hidden away at the top of a skyscraper.  Ray never really had homesickness before.  Never felt that crushing misery in his chest or the fucking tremors in his limbs.  He'd never had a home until he ran into Ryan and fuck it all, Ray didn't want to lose it.

He was getting really fucking soft if he was losing it over an apartment.  That shit just wouldn't do.

Ray tossed the knife in the air, grabbed it tightly by the blade and flung it to the wall.  Yanking it out, he carved a crude target into the wall.  Geoff was probably going to tear him a new one.  He seemed like that kind of guy.

See if he wanted Ray in his crew after this.  Target practice seemed like a great idea.  Fuck Geoff Ramsey.  Fuck this crew.  Fuck this fucking bullshit heist.  Ray hadn't answered to anyone in a long time and he wasn't going to fucking start that shit up again.

Over and over again he threw the knife into his target, watching with pleasure as the blade sunk deeper and deeper into the wall with each toss.  Knives were Ray's favorite fucking thing he picked up in this godforsaken city.  The warm blood of a victim as it spread over his arms.  The feeling of flesh tearing beneath his hands.  Watching the light fade from their eyes and their lifeblood pour onto the pavement.

It was fucking beautiful.

He had carved up that traitor real good though.  The traitor whose head belongs to Gavin now.  Maybe Gavin wouldn't like it as much if he knew that Ray had cut the tongue out.  Or that the man's entire body was filleted like a fish.  Goddamn, Ray loved that.  The muscles and bones beneath the skin that he could expose within seconds.

The knife sank into the wall and a door slammed open.

"Would you bloody keep it down out there!" Gavin shouted from the hallway.

"Fucking make me," Ray muttered, pulling out the knife and stalking down to the bedrooms.

"Some of us are trying to fucking sleep!" Michael shouted.

"Sleep, my ass," Ray scoffed.  He flipped the knife in his hand and stopped at the first open door he found.

Sure enough, there was Michael and Gavin, wrapped up around each other on the bed.  Not doing anything, just laying there on a massive fucking bed.  Shit must have been the size of two kings.  At least.  The whole fucking crew could sleep on that goddamn thing.  The two looked up as Ray leaned against the door frame.  How fucking domestic of them.

"Look man," Michael said over Gavin's head.  "You do whatever the fuck you want.  I swear we won't bother you.  But you better fucking keep it the fuck down or else."

"Or else?" Ray couldn't help laughing.  "How fucking cliche can you be, dude?"

"We had a long fucking night, give us a fucking break," Michael said.  His face was scrunched up and eyes narrowed with fury.  It was almost cute - like a pissed off kitten.

"A long fucking night?  Or a long night of fucking?"

Michael was angry and that made him sloppy.  By the time he spun off the bed, gun in hand, Ray's knife had already left his hand.  It whipped past Michael's head, taking a chunk of curly hair with it before hitting the wall behind him.  Gavin jumped up, eyes wide and Michael's face went red.  Ray only shrugged.  Not his fault these two idiots were fucking slow as dicks.

"What the fuck man?" Michael shouted, waving his gun around.  That didn't make Ray nervous at all.  "You could have fucking killed me!"

"Please," Ray rolled his eyes.  "I'm better than that.  I barely nicked you."

"You're a piece of shit," Michael stomped towards him.  He held himself like a typical mobster; large and intimidating.  Ray ate those men for breakfast.  "I'm gonna fucking tear you apart.  You're just a kid without the Mad King here."

"Michael," Gavin grabbed his arm, pulling Michael back.  "Just leave it."

"Yeah, Michael," Ray goaded.  This was too easy.  "Listen to your boyfriend and leave it the fuck alone."

The sound that came out of Michael's mouth was more animal than human.  He lunged towards Ray, gun falling to the ground.  How so very predictable of him.  Michael fought with his emotions not his mind.  His hands reached for Ray's throat and Gavin shouted.  Ray ducked under Michael and ran across the room.  He barreled past Gavin and pulled his knife out of the wall.  Michael had turned around and charged for Ray again.  Ray dodged each punch and sliced up Michael each time.

There was blood staining Michael's clothes and dripping onto the wood floor.  Ray was flying high at the sight.  Michael was fucking adorable covered in blood.  Ray suddenly wanted to tear off Michael's clothes and see if the rest of his skin was as pale and freckly as his face.  He wanted to bite and suck and cut at that skin.  Fuck Ray and his sex drive.

The click of a gun echoed in the room.  Ray turned away from Michael, trying to focus on the fact Gavin was pointing a gun at him instead of wanting to fuck Michael into oblivion.  But holy shit Gavin looked different than before.  Still tall and gangly but all of his clumsy quirks were gone.  There was no shit-eating grin, no mirth in his eyes, no tremor in his hands.  His face was set in concentration and eyes darting around the room. Calculating. Assessing.

Gavin was dangerous, Ray realized.  He was quick and brilliant and hid it beneath a carefully constructed character.  Gavin was not to be underestimated.  Ever.

"Well, this has been lovely, but I've gotta run," Ray said lightly, tucking his knife away and raising his hands.  "You might want to clean up the blood though."

Turning on his heel, Ray ran.  He burst through the door that led to the roof and took the stairs two at a time.  The sun was blinding from this height and the wind whipped at his clothes.  Ray collapsed to the ground and shoved his hand down his pants.

Fucking fuck fuck _fuck_.

This was not a part of the fucking goddamn plan.  Ryan was so getting a fucking earful when he got back.  Ray tightened his fingers around his dick, thinking about Michael spread out on a white bed, freckles like sunspots across his skin.  He would be tied up and blindfolded and Ray would have a knife.  The blood would be stark contrast on the white as it seeped from the cuts.  Ray could almost taste the salt on his tongue as he imagined licking the blood up Michael's chest.

"Please," Michael would whisper in an absolutely wrecked voice.

Then Gavin would come in, long and lean and tan.  His thin fingers would tangle up in Michael's hair as they exchanged slow, wet kisses.  Fuck Ray's imagination.  It only took a few more strokes and Ray was coming in his jeans.  He fell onto his back, limp and boneless, phantom images of Michael and Gavin in his head.  Holy shit, this was not a part of the fucking plan.

Ryan was so fucking dead.


	5. Chapter 5

Ray waited in their room for Ryan to come back.  He had snuck down the stairs when he saw Gavin and Michael drive away in a fucking chrome Adder (Chrome?  Seriously?) and locked himself away.  He couldn't quite bring himself to see them so soon.   His nerves were still on fire from earlier though his brain hadn't managed to wrap around what the fuck he was doing.  Michael and Gavin were both honestly very attractive.  Had they met in any other circumstances (and had Ryan not been around) Ray probably would have fucked them both.  Quick and easy with no strings attached.

That would be impossible to achieve now.

Maybe he could talk it over with them, and with Ryan, and arrange a one night stand.  Holy fuck, didn't that sound clinical.  Ray groaned and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in his arms.

He was probably just lonely.  Ray was still worked up from this morning and Ryan hadn't had time to deliver.  Of course he was going to fucking look around.  Ray had needs too.  It was nothing but a lapse in judgement and by morning, Ray would be completely over it.  Michael and Gavin would go back to being Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum and Ray could just let it go.

Right?

The door opened and Ray lifted up his head.  Ryan stood over him with a heavy box in his arms.  Any confusing arousal Ray had been feeling vanished, replaced by very real arousal at seeing his Mad King.  Ryan put the box in a corner and Ray jumped.  Ryan caught him without hesitation as Ray buried his face into Ryan's neck, breathing in.

"Miss me?" Ryan asked, fingers digging into the underside of Ray's thighs.

"You have no idea."

Ray trailed kisses up Ryan's neck, across his cheek until lips met lips.  There is what Ray had been missing all fucking day.  That hot, sweet slide of lips.  The curling of Ryan's tongue against his molars.  They'd been together for months but Ryan could still suck the breath from Ray's lungs.  His back slammed against the wall as Ryan rocked his hips up to meet Ray's.

A gasp fell out of his mouth and Ray tangled his fingers in Ryan's thick hair, pulling as hard as he could.

"We could wait for the bed to come in," Ryan breathed into Ray's mouth.

"Fuck no," Ray countered.  "I've been waiting all day for this."

Ryan's hands slid up from Ray's legs and tightened around his hips.  Then the world was spinning and Ray was lying flat on his back, staring up as Ryan crawled over him.  His hands trailed underneath of Ray's shirt.  Ryan's fingers were rough and each touch was like fire and ice against Ray's quivering skin.  The shirt slid up over Ray's head and stopped at his wrists.

Ray could probably get out of there if he wanted to, but he deserved this.  He needed this.  Needed Ryan to completely dominate him and take complete control.  He could only watch as Ryan trailed kisses down his body.  His lips tortuously dragged over every inch of skin.  Teeth dug slightly in Ray's nipple and he arched into it.  His dick was achingly hard already and he couldn't stop himself from trying to rub up against Ryan.

Hot hands pushed down Ray's hips and he whined.  Ray's eyes were scrunched shut as Ryan's tongue slid down his chest, dipping into his belly button.  A kiss on both of his hip bones.  Ray wanted so desperately to grab Ryan's head and force him against Ray's straining erection.  Ryan was a goddamn bastard sometimes in his teasing.  Fingers tucked into the waistband of his pants and pulled.

The cold air on his hot cock made Ray shiver.  He didn't have time to complain because an even hotter mouth was engulfing him.  Ryan had a fucking gift for blowjobs.  There was no explaining it other than Ryan was a fucking natural.  Ray tightened his fingers into the fabric of his shirt and  _groaned._ It filled up his chest and shot out of him.  It had been too fucking long since Ryan had done this and holy shit Ray missed it a fuck ton.

Ryan's hands were bruising on his hips, keeping Ray from thrusting with abandon into Ryan's mouth.  Not because Ryan couldn't handle it.  (Once Ray fucked Ryan's mouth so hard that Ryan couldn't talk for the rest of the day).  This was about keeping Ray under control.  Ryan pulled off and Ray's little semblance of control was gone.

"I swear to God, Ryan, if you don't fucking finish this then I'm fucking killing you."

He pushed himself up slightly, wrists still wrapped up in his shirt, and was promptly distracted by Ryan fucking Haywood.  His cheeks were pink and mouth red and slick with saliva.  He was also still completely fucking dressed, sitting back on his knees and just staring at Ray.

"Would I ever leave you like this?" Ryan asked mockingly.  "You're so fucking gorgeous like this, with your cock hard and needy, all flushed up with blood.  You'll be begging for me soon."

"I'm fucking begging now!" Ray scooted closer to Ryan, feeling his ass stick to the wood floor.  "Please, Ryan.  God, I need you in my now.  Fuck me until I can't fucking think.  Make me forget my fucking name.  Let this whole goddamn crew know about us.  Just fuck me."

Ryan's lips quirked up in his Cheshire cat grin.  He slowly unzipped his pants and slid them down to his knees.  His dick sprang up, thick and curving towards his stomach.  If Ray had any sense of creative writing, he would have dedicated sonnets to Ryan's penis.  The flushed thickness.  The spiderwebs of blue veins just beneath the surface.  How it felt, hot and heavy, in Ray's hand or on his tongue.  Instead, Ray dedicated dead bodies and severed limbs to Ryan's majestic cock.

The majestic cock he wanted inside him for fucking hours now.

Instead of fucking him into the ground, Ryan reached down to Ray's pooled jeans and pulled out his knife.  Ray's heart thumped in his chest at the glint in Ryan's eyes.  The first cut felt like fire on Ray's thigh.  They were always careful.  Nothing deep or crippling.  Nothing that would put them out of commission.  Just enough to feel the burn.  Blood slid thickly down Ray's leg.  He closed his eyes.

Ryan was gentle with the knife as he cut into Ray's skin, drawing blood until Ray was covered with it.  Bloody fingers touched Ray's lips and he opened his mouth.  Eyes locked onto Ryan's, he sucked his own blood of Ryan's fingers.  He glanced down at his body.  It was almost like a work of art, swirls of bloody fingerprints trailing from cut to cut.  One particular cut on his wrist was bleeding sluggishly.

It was that cut that Ryan went to, coating his spit-slicked fingers with blood.  Ray's head was spinning and his body was burning.  The cuts felt like liquid fire on his skin and then Ryan was pressing into him and nothing else mattered.  Hardly thinking, dizzy with blood loss and lust, Ray pushed himself down onto Ryan's fingers.  A moan tore through his throat at the feeling of being stretched and  _full_ that Ray didn't fucking care what noises he was making.

"Fuck, Ray," Ryan's voice sounded absolutely wrecked.

"C'mon, baby," Ray tried to sound sexy, but probably just sounded desperate.  "Do it for me."

With no warning, Ryan slammed his dick into Ray.  Ray screamed.  It fucking  _hurt_ but it hurt good.  Ryan pounded into him ruthlessly.  Cuts were reopened and blood oozed out.  Ryan's hand was heavy on his chest, fingers dragging through the blood, painting in swirls over Ray's body.

Time stopped for Ray.  There was only pleasure and pain.  There was only Ryan pounding into him, looking perfectly put together and still dressed.  There was only the stench of blood and sweat and sex in the air.  Ray was a screaming and babbling mess, unable to do anything but take it.  Ryan paused mid-thrust and ripped his shirt off.  He bent over and engulfed Ray with his body.

Ryan was biting and sucking at Ray's neck, licking up drops of sweat and blood.  His hands were bruising against Ray's hips and thighs.  His hips didn't stop thrusting.  Ray was filled completely, stretched and burning and on fucking fire.

When Ryan came, it was with a shout and a tightening of fingers.  He bit down on Ray's shoulder so hard it drew blood.  Ray felt Ryan filling him up and came seconds later.  His vision went black and spotty and everything went limp.

The next thing he knew was a warm, damp rag over his body.  The blood was wiped away and his cuts were wrapped up gently.  Ray opened his eyes blearily.  Ryan had untwisted his shirt from his wrists and Ray sat up slowly.  His head spun and he fell back over.  A warm body and warm blanket wrapped around him.

Ray's life was fucking bizarre.  Ryan was ruthless and merciless.  He once blew up half a city block just for fun.  Ray was just as insane.  He burned a man just to try and prove that the burns killed someone before suffocation.  They were the horror stories of Los Santos and here they were cuddling on the floor.  It was fucking insane but didn't people do crazy shit when they were in love?

"I fucking love you, you crazy bastard," Ray finally mumbled.

"Love you too, shithead," Ryan nuzzled into the back of Ray's neck.

Ray rolled over, fighting against his exhausted limbs so he could look at Ryan's face.

"I thought about fucking Michael and Gavin," he confessed.  "While you were gone."

"Did you?" Ryan mused.  "They look like they'd be fun."

"But we're not here for fun," Ray argued weakly.  "We can't get attached.  That's what got you and me into trouble in the first place."

"Nah," Ryan pulled Ray closer.  "You're better than a fucking $10 billion bounty."

"Gee, thanks," Ray rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be pulled into Ryan's chest.

"Look, we'll just play things by ear, okay?" Ryan said.  "We are going to fuck with them as much as possible.  If that means actually fucking them, then we'll do it too."

"Monogamy is bullshit anyway," Ray giggled.

"And if we get attached, then we roll with it."

"Just one heist, right?" Ray blinked owlishly, looking up at Ryan with hazy eyes.  "They won't be able to handle us longer than that."

Ryan smiled and kissed Ray's forehead.  "Yeah.  One heist."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read somewhere about blood being used as lubrication. I only have that to blame.
> 
> Thank you guys for reading! Thank you for the comments and kudos! They're inspiring and keep me going. Thanks :)


	6. Chapter 6

It started with Ray joining Jack on a scouting trip.  Michael and Gavin refused to look at him (which was a fucking victory in Ray's book) except for intense stares at the cuts and bruises all over his body.  They didn't make a single comment though, just stared at him like he was a fucking museum exhibit.  Seriously guys?  Ray could see them.  They were not subtle at all.  Fucking idiots.  Jack didn't say a thing, just locked eyes with Ray and gestured for them to leave.

Actually, it was pretty impressive.  Not many people would look Ray in the eye.  Most would (and have) died because of it.  Jack had some serious balls.  Or he was fucking suicidal and insane.  It was hard to tell at this point.

Still, Ray and Jack walked into the bank together to scout it out.  They were supposed to find the security cameras, the guards, and various other things.  Jack pulled in front of the bank, threw the car into park, and turned to face Ray.

"I don't trust you," Jack said without preamble.  "I think Geoff is fucking crazy for hiring you and Ryan.  But we're here to work."

"Fine," Ray said.  "So are we going to sit here playing with our dicks all day, or actually scout the damn bank?"

The bank was pretty normal, as far as banks went.  The lobby was open with a row of tellers on one end.  Camera's were situated in each corner on a timed rotation.  A drive through was in the back next to the vault.  It was a local bank so the take wouldn't be as great, but hey, money's money.  Ray walked in.  He kept his hood on, looking down at the ground with hands stuffed into his pockets.  Jack stepped in behind him, making a beeline for the open teller.

It was a quiet day.  Only three or four workers that Ray could see.  Easy pickings.  The location of the bank was pretty ideal.  A suburban neighborhood was behind the bank and there was a plaza in the front.  Plenty of alleys and escape routes for the crew.  Not enough room for a chopper, but a couple of trucks could block the way up pretty easily.  Quick and easy money.  For a bank.

Jack came back from the teller, a smile behind his beard and a slip of paper in his hand.  They were in the car, a few miles away, before Ray spoke.

"What's that?"

"Teller's phone number," Jack tossed it to Ray carelessly.  "She was pretty."

"Isn't Geoff going to get jealous?" Ray jabbed, reading the number quickly.

"No.  Gavin's the jealous one."

Oh.  That's how they were.  The four of them.  Together.  Interesting.  Emotional relationships compromised criminals.  That's what happened to Ray and Ryan.  They were so fucking compromised.  They had to stay on top of Los Santos.  It was the only way to keep each other safe.  But for Geoff to look out for three companions?  Fucking stupid.  Maybe he and Ryan could use this against them.  Take Michael far away and torture him until the other three came running.  Fuck Gavin into silence.  Tear Geoff's little empire from the top down.

The scenery flew by them at rapid speeds.  Jack was a damn good driver.  He took his turns at the right speeds and wasn't afraid of back alleys.  The ride was smooth and fast, just how Ray liked it.  Jack took a left turn and sped up to the hills.

"Aren't you going the wrong way?" Ray pointed out.

"No."

"The apartment is that way," Ray jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.

"I'm not going to the apartment," Jack turned to face Ray.

There was a hint of a challenging grin beneath Jack's fantastic beard.  A slight narrow of the eyes as Jack pressed his foot harder on the gas.  The car lurched forward.

"You're not going to kill me, are you?" Ray couldn't help asking.  "Because you know you'd lose, right?"

"I thought I'd show you what we do in our spare time," Jack said cryptically.  "Unless you can't handle it?"

Ray just rolled his eyes and looked out the window.  It's as if Jack expected Ray to be new at this game.  A little challenge here, a tiny threat there, and most would be lapping up at it.  Any other dime-store criminal would have been talking up to Jack, trying to impress and prove their worth.  But Ray had done all that.  He'd kissed ass to his cocaine suppliers for years to climb those ranks.  He spent years proving his worth, that he wasn't just some punk kid on the street.

They rolled up to the top of Mount Chiliad.  Jack jumped from the car.  Ray followed, hands in his pockets.  Jack walked into a little building at the top, reaching behind for the gun tucked into his jeans.  Interesting.  Ray had a two knives up his sleeves and a heavy pistol in his jeans.  If things got ugly, he was ready.  The building was more of a shack than anything else and it was fairly new.

It reminded Ray of the various safe-houses Ryan had scattered around the city.

Shit, Jack was going to try and kill him, wasn't he?  Shame, honestly.  Jack seemed like a pretty chill guy, though to be in a four-way relationship, he kinda had to.  Jack opened the door.  It led to a single, dimly lit room.  A man was tied to a chair there, unconscious and covered in dried blood.  He looked like hell warmed over.  Ray and Ryan had done some serious torture in their time, but this was almost a work of art.

The door slammed shut and a flickering light turned on.

In the light, Ray could see clearly who the man was.  He was one of those who had risen up again Ray and Ryan over and over again.  He stole their drugs, tipped the police, and that was only the beginning.  He had been a thorn in their side for a long time but Ryan couldn't fucking find him.  This man was good at hiding, which was fairly impressive since he was hiding from the two biggest criminals of Los Santos.

Ray didn't get furious very often.  He chose a calm, cold anger over the raging fury that Ryan adopted.  But seeing this man, this fucking piece of shit that ruined everything, made Ray angry.  The kind of angry that made Ryan laugh with his rocket launcher.  The kind of angry that he saw in Michael the other day when he realized he was fucking screwed with those boys.

"Motherfucking Joe," Ray stepped forward.  "You are in for a fucking shitstorm."

Jack's hand was heavy on his shoulder and as he pulled him backwards.  "Not so fast.  We caught him.  This guy belongs to us."

"Fuck that," Ray snapped.  "This guy fucked up my empire.  He's  _mine_."

"Ooo, possessive," Jack hummed.  "I bet Ryan loves that."

"He does, thanks," Ray pulled his arm from Jack.

"But I don't," Jack grabbed Ray's wrist.  "I'll let you tear this guy a new one, I will.  But you have to listen and fucking play by the rules."

All of Ray's thoughts narrowed to Jack's fingers wrapped around his wrist.  That one spot of heat and contact.  It was the first skin to skin contact Ray's had with Jack.  He was surprised that Jack's hands were soft and tender, practically caressing the thin skin over Ray's pulse.  The heat that radiated from Jack was close to an inferno.  Ray was hyper-fucking aware of the heat seeping from Jack's fingers against his wrist.

Ray pulled his hand free and rubbed at his wrist absently.  It was cold and uncomfortable.  Jack didn't notice and moved towards Joe, slapping him awake.

"Rule 1.  Geoff chooses when to off this guy.  He's our plaything and Geoff has the final say on it.  Rule 2.  No maiming.  We want to send him back to his family in one piece.  Rule 3.  If you can't fix it then don't break it."

"Where's the fun in that?" Ray folded his arm, wrist still uncomfortably empty.

"In killing him later," Jack said easily.  He grabbed a car battery from the floor, two electrodes hooked up.  He held them out to Ray.

Ray had never messed with electricity before.  It was always Ryan's thing and Ray never bothered learning.  But hell, why not learn now?  He grabbed the electrodes from Jack hesitantly.  Jack slid around him and pointed where to place them on Joe's body.  The reaction was instant.  His body seized up and he tried to scream, but his jaw was frozen shut as the electricity coursed through him.

And wasn't that the most powerful thing Ray had done in weeks?  Fucking hell, Ray had been missing out on something fantastic.  He pulled off the electrodes and turned his face to Jack.  He was grinning wide behind his beard, eyes sparkling brightly.

"Awesome, isn't it?"

"Holy fuck."

Jack chuckled and it was low and deep and he was so close that Ray could  _feel_ it against his spine.  He should have jumped away, run off and never looked back.  Fuck, he should have run into the chopper and flown to the apartment himself.  Instead, he turned his body around so they were chest to chest.  Jack was only a few inches taller than Ray, but he was twice as wide and intimidating as fuck.  Ray looked up and Jack's round, smiling face, and wanted to come all over it.

Goddamn it.

There were warm hands on his shoulders and Jack was pushing Ray out of the building into the blinding sunlight.  Strange arousal was still thrumming through his body and he could smell Jack's cologne on his body.  Holy shit this was bad.  This was really, really, really fucking bad.

With fumbling hands, Ray pulled out his cell phone and punched Ryan's name.  It rang twice.

"What do you want?" Ryan answered.

"Love you too," Ray replied.  "Look, I think I just had a moment with Jack.  Like a serious fucking moment you see in fucking daytime television.  With the blushing actress and cheesy music and moonlight and the whole fucking thing.  What the hell, man?"

"I'm kinda busy right now," Ryan said with no sympathy.  "Look, have your fucking moment.  Shit, take Jack and fuck him like you want to.  Get them off our backs, right?"

"Right."

"And I can get back to fucking Geoff over and we'll call it even."

"You're doing fucking what with Geoff?!" Ray shouted.

"Relax, baby, I'm all yours later," Ryan said smoothly.  "Geoff is literally seconds from telling me the big fucking plan.  So cool down.  Fuck Jack.  And I'll take you out tonight."

"You better make it fucking worth it," Ray threatened.  "I swear to God, Ryan.  This has gone tits up from the beginning and I'm fucking sick of it.  I just want to be fucking normal again with you and me and our fucking empire and none of this bullshit crew."

"I know, baby, I know," Ryan soothed.  "It'll be over soon and then we can go on a murder spree."

"Can we blow up the Maze Building?"

"We'll see."

Ryan clicked off and left Ray on a darkening mountain.  Jack came out of the building and stepped right behind Ray, close enough that Ray could feel the body heat even through his sweater.  He turned his head and looked up.  Jack's gingery hair was vibrant in the setting sun and fuck that was enticing.  He looked back at Ray, his eyes softening around the corners and fucking's Ray's stomach flipped.

"What say we head back?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, sure," Ray nodded.

They walked to the car and Jack opened Ray's door.  It was so fucking gentleman-ly of him that Ray really couldn't help what he did.  Which was grab Jack by the lapels of his fucking annoying shirt and slam their mouths together.  His beard tickled Ray's lips and damn, he liked it.  A lot.  Jack kissed him back and crowded Ray up against the side of the car.  He was completely surrounded by heat and that fucking cologne and Jack's beard tickled Ray's nose and he was going to wreck this so much.

Jack kissed down Ray's neck, sucking a few careful marks around whatever clear skin he had left.  Ray's hips stuttered up, brushing against Jack's.  What started as a promise of a slow, careful fuck, was thrown out the window.  Jack's heavy hands were on Ray's hips, right over the bruises that Ryan left yesterday, and he ground his hips against Ray's.  The pressure and friction was delicious and Ray threw his head back, hitting the edge of the car.

Whispering a curse, Ray's hands wrapped around Jack's neck, his leg hoisted up around Jack's hip.  They rutted against each other, foreheads pressed together as they breathed in each other.  It was hot and wet and Ray felt his orgasm rise in his gut.  He came with a gasp, wetting through his boxers as Jack kissed the rest of the breath out of him.  Jack's careful thrusts stuttered.  He swore and dropped his head to Ray's shoulder.

They pulled apart slowly.  Ray was still gasping for breath and Jack's face was flushed pink.  Fuck.  Ray hadn't come in his pants since the day he first met Ryan.  This could not be the start of some weird trend with him.  Jack coughed and walked around the car to the driver's seat.  Catching his breath, Ray slid into the passenger seat.

It was fucking weird to have sex with someone that wasn't Ryan.  Not that he would qualify rutting in his jeans as sex, he wasn't fourteen.  But the point still stood that it was fucking weird.  Jack was gentle, even with the hickies.  He had potential to be horrible and tear Ray apart, but he didn't.  His kisses were tender even, deep and longing.

Ray couldn't figure out if it was weirder that it happened or if that Ryan approved.  Or that he actually loved every second of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own GTA V but this bank is totally fictional, based slightly on the one I go to.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Realized that having a blonde named Barbara instantly brings to mind Barbara D. which was not my intention. Her name has been changed.
> 
> Apologies for any surprises and negative feelings that came from that.

Ryan was late.  He was late and he was going to get a fucking new asshole ripped into him when he decided to fucking show up.  Ray had even gotten a goddamn present for the occasion and Ryan was late.  What a bastard.  They were meeting at one of their favorite warehouses, Ryan promising to bring him some Chinese take-out and Ray promised to be there on time and, whaddya know?  Who wasn't fucking here yet?

Fucking Mad King Ryan Haywood, that's fucking who.

Ray was getting twitchier by the minute.  His body was still singing from that tryst with Jack only a few hours ago.  He could still feel the phantom beard scratching his cheek.  He could still feel the aching cold on his wrist from where Jack had grabbed him.  When they had gotten back to the penthouse, Jack locked himself away in the Heist Room (that's what Gavin called it) and Ray ran to the warehouse.

After picking up the gift.

The pretty blonde teller that flirted with Jack.  It was stupid easy to lure her out.  Ray gave her a call, said Jack wasn't interested but he was and she came practically skipping into his trap.  Pretty damn devious, if Ray said so himself.  If only fucking Ryan were here to see it.

The doors slammed open and Ryan came sauntering in.  He had a bag of food slung casually over his shoulder and his mask perched carefully on his hair.  Truly a fucking sight to behold and Ray drank it in.  He was the fucking luckiest criminal alive.

The bag barely hit the ground before Ray was pushing himself into Ryan's arms.  No jumping this time.  He just slid right into Ryan's personal space, hands sliding up Ryan's arms and around his neck.  Ryan's hot and heavy hands rested perfectly on Ray's waist (almost like Jack's) and he bent down to kiss him.

Something strong and spicy wafted off of him and Ray backed away from Ryan.  That wasn't the normal Ryan smell.  Ryan smelled like leather and wood and whatever deodorant was on sale (because Ryan was a fucking dork and saved money like that).  This was some stupid Axe body spray on Ryan and fuck Ray hated it.

"Don't you normally wash off the mistress's perfume before meeting your boyfriend?" Ray quipped.

"I could say the same for you," Ryan buried his nose into Ray's neck and inhaled.  "You smell like sex and you've got Jack all over you."

"So what?  You are practically swimming in Geoff."

"Actually, this is Gavin."

"Fucking great."

Ray was really about to get into Ryan then.  He didn't fucking have the right to, considering what almost happened with Michael and what did happen with Jack, but at least Ray fucking double-checked with Ryan to make sure it was okay.  He confessed and asked permission.  Ray never thought he'd play the jealous lover but, then again, he never thought he'd break all his carefully constructed rules because of some guy's fucking gorgeous smile.  His mouth was open, insults and anger ready to blow, when a careful moan came from behind him.

Sighing, Ray took Ryan by the hand and led him to the chair.  Pretty and blonde was starting to stir, the blood in her hair caking to one side of her head.

"Ryan, meet Beth," Ray said.  "I, uh, brought her for you."

"Oh, baby," Ryan turned to face him, hand cupping Ray's cheek.  "You didn't have to bring me a gift."

"Well, you've been busy and I've been busy and, since it's our night out, figured you'd want something special."

Ryan kissed him then, with hard pressure and slick tongue and so much passion Ray thought he was going to faint.  He still smelled like Gavin but, Ryan twisted his tongue and flicked at the roof of Ray's mouth, that it didn't fucking matter anymore.  As long as Ryan kept kissing him like this, fuck Gavin.  Which was a surprisingly pleasant image, actually.

"Go eat," Ryan whispered into Ray's gasping mouth.  "I'll join you in a few minutes."

So Ray did.  He picked up his takeout box and a pair of chopsticks and ate.  In between bites of Mandarin chicken, he told Ryan about his little electricity stunt with Jack on the top of Mount Chiliad.  He mentioned the rutting up against the car and Ryan laughed at that.  ("I remember when you did that to me, sliding your little, lithe body right next to mine.  It'll take a stronger man than either of us to resist that.").  All the while, Ryan cut up pretty Beth into pieces, her screams muffled by the gag.

For his part, Ryan had not been fucking Geoff.  Geoff was loyal to his crew and his three boys.  But Ryan had been taking Geoff out drinking, buying him shot after shot, until Geoff would begin hinting at his plans for the crew.

"The fucking Fake AH Crew," Ryan said, collecting Beth's manicured nails in a little glass.

"What does AH stand for?" Ray asked, holding out a piece of beef for Ryan to eat.

"No fucking clue," Ryan shrugged.  "Currently he's sitting on Awesome Heisters."

Ray actually choked on his soda at that.  "That's the fucking stupidest name I've ever heard of!"

"I know, right?" Ryan chuckled.  "Anyway, he sent Jack with you to try and soften you up while he worked on me.  Figured you're the lesser threat.  He'll probably send out the lads next."

"Sorry, lads?"

"Yeah, Gavin and Michael.  Since they're so young, they call themselves the lads.  Geoff and Jack are the gents."

"Pet names, how cute," Ray rolled his eyes.  "Wait, so does that make me a lad and you a gent?"

"Guess so?" Ryan wiped the blood off his hands.  "Pliers?  She has really good molars."

Apparently, after dragging home a drunk Geoff, Michael took it upon himself to play Geoff's nursemaid and with Jack and Ray out, Ryan and Gavin talked.  Or argued, as Ryan was so gently putting it.  ("He was fucking asking about Max Blood and some shit.").  Then one thing led to another and before Ryan could figure it out, he and Gavin were pressed up against a wall, lazily giving each other handjobs.

Ray could picture it vividly in his mind.  Gavin pressed up against the wall, limbs askew as their hands were shoved into each other's pants.  Ryan would be strong and powerful, tugging at Gavin with confidence, while Gavin would be whimpering those ridiculous noises, movements sloppy with desire.

That was a sight Ray wanted to see.  Right next to his fantasy about Michael and the lust for Jack.  That was a new feeling for him.  Ryan was dropping teeth into a jar, each clink echoing in the warehouse.

"So what are we going to do about it?" Ray asked.  "This crew, I mean."

"Um, fuck, take the money and run?" Ryan turned around, leaving Beth slumped dead in her seat.  "I'm sure we can figure something out.  Some way of leaving them in an explosion or something, you know."

"Can't we keep them?" Ray grabbed at Ryan's shoulders and pulled him closer.  "I think it'd be fun having a couple of pets."

"Maybe if you're good," Ryan's fingers trailed up Ray's sides.

"I'll be fucking good as gold," Ray leaned up, noses brushing.  "You got to fuck with Gavin and I didn't.  I might be jealous of that."

"You might be possessive."

"Funny, that's what Jack said."

Ryan slotted their lips together, hot and slick.  Ray's mouth opened instantly and he spread his legs, allowing Ryan to slide against him.  Their hips brushed together and Ray bit at Ryan's lips.  Blood welled up and Ray's tongue swept it up from Ryan's mouth.

"Do you think they'll wait up for us?" Ray asked softly, the tang of blood heavy on his tongue.

"Doubtful," Ryan pressed a trail of kisses over his cheek and down to his throat.  "They're probably talking about us, you know."

"Good for them," Ray sighed, grabbing Ryan's hips.  "I'm not really in a mood tonight, though.  Can we just go back and cuddle or some shit?"

"Nothing better than two psychopaths cuddling," Ryan laughed, hot and wet, into Ray's neck.  "What about the girl?"

"We can take care of it later," Ray said.  "I can get one of our drug rings to take her in the morning.  Have to remind them who runs this joint."

"Tomorrow is another busy day for us," Ryan said, backing up with Ray on his hip.  "I think you're heading out with Gavin."

Ray tucked his head into Ryan's neck, pressing a warm, dry kiss there.  "I'm gonna fuck him in the car."

Ryan laughed and carried Ray all the way to their car, setting him into the passenger seat.  "Just remember that I'll be fucking Michael."

"Just remember he's not as good as I am," Ray mumbled.

"No one's as good as you, my lover."

Exhaustion swept over Ray.  Between scouting the bank with Jack, then rutting up against the car, then grabbing Beth, Ray was exhausted.  He'd had a full day.  He was allowed to pass out in the five minute drive to the penthouse.

Sleepily, he felt the world turn and spin as Ryan picked him up and carried him up the elevator.  Everything felt warm and soft and Ryan was whispering to him and fuck it didn't matter that he was Brownman and this was the Vagabond.  Didn't matter that they were the psychos who owned this fucking city.

Ryan was his and he was Ryan's.  Fuck the rest of the world.  Ryan brought him up, tucked him into bed and snuggled right up behind him and this was exactly what Ray wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. The end kind of went fluffy. Next up, Gavin and Ray get to bond and be psychos together. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, made a mistake last chapter. Didn't intended for my blonde OC Barbara to relate to Barbara Dunkelman which I understand, makes me the worst asshole, totally get it. Sorry about it. The girl's name has been changed because no, it wasn't Barbara from RT and I made a fucking stupid mistake, forgetting about connections that are made.
> 
> Sorry again.
> 
> Side note, broke 100 Kudos! Thank you guys so much. The reception has been overwhelming and it gives me energy to keep going.

Ray woke up to a loud squawking outside his door.  He rolled over to his empty bed and sat up.  Ryan left a note on the pillow, in typical Ryan fashion.

_Going to look at weapons with Michael.  I'll bring you something special.  -Ryan_

How fucking sweet of him.  Ray grinned and laid back on the bed, stretching across the luxurious bedspread.  It was nothing compared to their own bed, a massive Tempurpedic bed with a fucking, thousand thread sheet.  But this bed was pretty cozy, as far as beds went.

That loud, squawking came at the door again, this time followed by words.

"Get up you bloody git!  We've got explosives to make!"

Oh.  Right.  Ray was supposed to go with fucking Gavin.  That's right.  Ray rolled off the bed, pulling his sweater close as he opened the door.  On the other side, looking happier and perkier than anyone had the right to be this early in the fucking morning, was Gavin Free.  His hair was fluffy and glowing and he was dressed like an ass.  Gavin's clothes were the only thing that Ray latched onto in his early morning haze.

"Who the fuck wears sunglasses inside?"

"Oh, you reek!" Gavin backed off, coughing loudly.  "Go take a shower and meet me in the garage."

Without a second glance, Gavin trotted off, shouting out for Geoff on his way.  Ray peeked out into the hallway to watch Gavin but another door opened to his left.  Out stepped Jack in a billow of steam, towel wrapped around his waist and water droplets still on his shoulders.

Holy  _fuck_ Ray had never imagined this was hidden beneath Jack's loud Hawaiian shirts.  He was white, pearly almost, but strong and muscular, carefully hidden beneath the guise of fat.  There were silver scars over his skin and an occasional circle of pink, puckered skin- bullet scars.  He was so similar but so different from Ryan and, shit, Ray really wanted all of that.  He wanted to grab at Jack's love-handles and pull him close.  He wanted to trace those silvery scars and lick at the bullet wounds.  The desire came hot and sudden in his gut.

Their eyes met and Jack flushed pink.  The blush went down his neck and to his chest, blotchy pink and red in some places.  Ray licked his lips at the sight and Jack's flush went from pink to flaming red.

"Um, the bathroom's free," Jack mumbled, eyes glued to the ground.

"Shame I didn't get to join you," Ray said without hesitation.

There was a brief second of silence then Jack was standing right in front of him, damp and steamy and so close Ray could almost taste it.  He looked up and noticed, for the first time, the particular shade of green Jack's eyes were.  Heat was wafting off of Jack in waves and he smelled so good and clean and Ray had a fucking thing for ruining clean things.  There was a soft brush of lips against Ray's cheek and the smallest wisp of a beard against his neck.

It was soft and tender and before Ray could even consider grabbing those thick shoulders and kissing Jack for real, he was gone and there was a soft slamming of a door and Ray was alone in the hallway.

Awesome.  Now he was late and horny and there wasn't even the promise of shower sex to keep him going.  Fuck.

Ray took a fast shower, jerked off a quick one, and got dressed.  He was getting out of this apartment and he was going to fuck Gavin hard in whatever car he chose and leave him begging.  In some strange payback against this goddamn sexual frustration Jack was putting him through.  It was a fucking indignity.  Ray was supposed to be the one leaving people horny and wanting in his wake, not the other way around.

Geoff had a stack of waffles on the table and Ray nicked two of them as he hopped into the elevator, riding it down to the garage.  The garage itself was lit with brilliant white lights, illuminating the fucking horde of cars Geoff had.  They weren't just Geoff's cars, naturally.  Michael's chrome Adder was sitting shiny in the corner.  The rest were an assortment of the best cars on the market.

Ray was never much of a car person, but Ryan sure as shit was.  Ray knew what cars were pretty, but that was pretty much it.  Gavin was standing beside what looked like a dune buggy, only much more solid than the ones Ray had seen floating around the beach.  At the sight of Ray, Gavin gave a wide grin and jumped into the driver's seat.  Cautiously, Ray slid in beside him.

It was fucking weird.  Gavin was being lighthearted again, as if the incident two days ago didn't happen.  Ray hadn't had the chance to see how Michael's cuts were healing up, but Ray's were still scabbed and sore.  Ray remembered the cold light in Gavin's eyes as he aimed the gun at Ray.  There hadn't been an inch of hesitation.  How was that the same man driving this damn Bifta between oncoming traffic?

Of all the men on this fucking crew, Gavin was the most confusing son of a bitch.  He was the biggest conundrum Ray's had in a long time.  A very long time.

The car spun into an empty expanse of dirt and desert.  The sun was hot and high in the sky and Gavin jumped from the car.  Out in the distance was a tiny shack, similar to the one Ray and Jack visited on top of Mount Chiliad.  Just how many of those fucking things did these guys have?  Ray jogged up next to Gavin, hands shoved deep in his sweater pockets, fingers wrapped around his favorite knife.

Inside the building were rows and rows of powders with various labels.  Gavin grinned like a fucking maniac and dragged Ray inside, shutting the door behind them.  There was hardly enough room for the two of them and they were squashed uncomfortably close.  Gavin's elbow was jammed up against Ray's ribcage.

"You weren't joking about the explosives, eh?" Ray joked, reading some of the labels.  Black powder.  Salt peter.  Sulfur.

"I never joke about explosives," Gavin pulled out a box of PVC pipes.  "Today we learn about nail bombs.  Popularized by the IRA and quite useful, I've found.  Easy to make, easy to detonate and absolutely deadly."

Ray nodded and followed Gavin's instructions.  Shoving the pipe with explosives and nails was the easy part.  The tricky bit was adding the detonator without sending the entire place to the moon.  Gavin was passionate about explosions, going on about how the best explosions weren't the pretty ones on Hollywood, because those were mostly gasoline explosions, but the ones that left only smoke and debris.  Those were the explosions that shook your entire body and took your breath away.  Gavin talked about it with a certain amount of reverence.

This was clearly something Gavin was good at, seeing he had all his fingers and his lab was still in one piece.  Ray had seen plenty of pyromaniacs go up in smoke but Gavin handled his ingredients with a casual confidence.  He knew what he was doing.

But, Jesus Christ, he talked a lot.

"The problem with explosions is that some pyros just don't respect it, you know?" Gavin was rattling off, shoving nails into another pipe bomb.  "They think they control the fire and the blast when they don't.  The bomb is the boss and when you respect that, you get results."

Ray just nodded and Gavin started going off on arson and containing fires.  Shit, he knew his stuff.  Perhaps they could hire Gavin to make explosions for them.  Get rid of the Fake AH Crew and drag Gavin along to work for them.

And maybe Ray could see the miles of tan skin he'd been dreaming of.

Gavin gently took the pipe bombs and placed them in a container underneath his workbench.  Beside it was a box of grenades, which Gavin took out, and a bag of sticky bombs, which he also took out.  The aviators (which were perched on the top of his head inside) fell back onto Gavin's face and he kicked the door wide open.  Following, Ray watched Gavin toss the explosives into the back of the Bifta and hopped into the driver's seat.

Seriously, what the fuck were they doing?  Gavin just gave Ray a lesson on homemade explosives and was pretending like their last meeting didn't end horribly.  Still, Ray had no choice but to play along.  The wind whipped past them and Gavin drove up deeper into the desert.  Of all the cars in the garage, all those sports cars with tinted windows, Gavin picked the most open car he could find.

Car sex was off the table then.  Fucker.

Something hot and cruel burst in Ray's chest.  Gavin was a fucking nobody and here was Ray, following orders like a grunt.  What the fuck happened?  He ruled Los Santos and her citizens.  He did not follow orders and he didn't accept answers without pushing.  He was just so fucking confused about this fucking crew but Ray was still the biggest and baddest and Gavin had clearly forgotten it.

While Gavin wasn't to be underestimated, that didn't mean Ray couldn't have fun.  After all, isn't that what Ryan said?

"So," Ray turned to Gavin, that familiar smirk twisting his mouth.  "How is Michael doing?  Hope I didn't ruin him for you."

Gavin barely stiffened, just a slight tightening of his shoulders.  There it was.  The fucking weakest weak spot of any human, people you cared about.  Gavin was no different and even though Jack said the four of them were together, Gavin and Michael shared a bond.  A bond that Ray was going to fucking exploit for all his worth.

"Such a shame, really," Ray mused out-loud, kicking his feet up on the dash.  "I would have loved to lick the blood off of him.  To count his freckles and trace constellations with my knife."

Gavin's fingers were white on the steering wheel.  Ray's smirked widened.  This was the thing about weak spots.  They were impossible to hide.

"Leave him alone," Gavin's voice was tight, no hint of the squawking fool from earlier.

"Like how Ryan left you alone?" Ray shot back.  Gavin winced and Ray pressed on.  "Yeah, he fucking told me.  Told me how he dominated you up against a wall, like some street-corner slut.  If that's really you in bed, I'd be doing Michael a fucking favor."

The Bifta veered to the left and Ray barely had time to grab the frame to stop from falling into Gavin's lap.  It skidded to a halt and Ray swore he felt the car lift up on one side before slamming back down to the ground.  Gavin threw the car into park with venom and tore the keys from the ignition.  He turned to Ray and there it was, Gavin's cold, calm fury.  It washed over Ray and he remembered that Gavin was not to be messed with.  Something about him echoed training beyond petty criminals and it scared Ray shitless.

The desert was fucking hot and dry.  There was no wind, no traffic, no people.  The air was still and hot and Ray could feel Gavin's hot gaze on his face.  He matched it, lazy smile playing on his lips.  Let Gavin stew and get angry, that's what Ray needed.  He needed to see what Gavin (calm and cold Gavin) was like when he got hot.  Ray needed to know if Gavin got reckless like Michael or vicious like Ryan.

"You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish for what you did to Michael," Gavin said slowly.  His voice was low and soft, almost a purr of words that dripped from his mouth.  "This crew is my family and they're my boys, but Michael's my boi.  No one's ever fucking hurt him like that and lived."

"He was asking for it," Ray said.  "All that pale skin was begging for it."

The gun was at his throat before Ray could blink.  He knew Gavin had it in the Bifta, tucked between the seat and center console, and he knew that Gavin was going to draw on him sooner rather than later.  The knife in his sleeve felt cold and heavy as Ray lifted up his arms.

"I would fucking kill you here if Geoff didn't ask me not to," Gavin growled.

"And after I gave you that head?" Ray sighed dramatically.  "And here I thought we could be friends."

"You and Ryan are a threat and I'm used to taking out threats."

"Oh, ominous backstory, how original," Ray rolled his eyes.  Was everything about this crew this fucking cliche?  "Look man, I get it.  Possessive and protective.  Gotcha.  Can you put the fucking gun away now?"

"No."

"Shit."

"If you do anything to hurt any of this crew, I'll blow you into goddamn smithereens."

"Is this how you got Ryan to fuck you?  Because that kind of talk always gets him a little excited."

Ray expected one of two things.  Either Gavin was going to shoot him and find some way to hide the evidence or he was going to get bludgeoned with the pistol and dragged back to base.  What he didn't expect was for Gavin to lower his gun and start laughing.  In an instant, that scary, almost cop-like Gavin was gone and replaced with the village idiot Gavin.  He laughed long and loud and Ray actually started to get a little worried.

"You still think that Ryan was on top between the two of us?" Gavin managed between wheezes of laughter.  "Yeah, he pushed me up on the wall but he came first."  As if to illustrate his point, Gavin lifted up his fingers and gave a little wiggle.

Gavin did have very nice hands and fingers.  Long, slim and strong, Ray's imagination went rampant.  It was a mix of Gavin's fingers buried deep inside him, or wrapped around Ryan's dick, or slicked up in Michael's mouth.  The sun was too hot and the air too still and Ray struggled to catch his breath, jeans uncomfortably tight.

"Here," Gavin was very close to Ray, close enough that Ray could feel Gavin's lips move against his as he talked.  "Let me give you a demonstration."

Without warning, those long, thin fingers were slipping into Ray's jeans, the button undone and zipper already down.  Ray hadn't even noticed until right fucking then.  It hardly mattered that they were in a lone Bifta in the middle of the little Los Santos desert when Gavin's beautiful fingers stroked Ray's twitching cock until he was fully hard.  One of Ray's hands dug into Gavin's shoulder and the other blindly reached for the bulge in front of Gavin's jeans.

It was hot, so fucking, fucking hot, and Ray was still wrapped up in his goddamn purple sweater.  Gavin's breath was warm and wet in his mouth and he could feel their lips bump against each others, dry and sticky.  It wasn't a kiss but fuck, Ray wished it was.

Gavin's hand was dry as he pumped Ray in quick succession.  The friction burned but it only added to the heat that was already consuming Ray's entire body.  Gavin's hand slowed its pace, only to grip Ray's dick so tight he felt like he could explode right there.  He dragged his hand up tortuously slow, slicking up a little with the precum beading at his tip.

With fumbling fingers, Ray opened Gavin's pants one handed, fingers seeking Gavin's hot and firm cock.  Uncircumcised.  Ray knew his way around an uncircumcised penis, but it was different when he had time to see Gavin's eyes widen with a particular twist or grip.  The little gasps that echoed in his mouth encouraged him and soon Ray was pumping Gavin in earnest.

"You're not as thick as Ryan," Gavin whispered, the palm of his hand pressing Ray's dick hard against his own stomach.  "But you're much longer."

"Thanks," Ray gasped a little laugh, his hips jerking up to meet Gavin's talented fingers.  "You're not my first uncircumcised though."

Gavin let out a soft, hiccuping moan as Ray twisted his hand up, thumb sweeping over the head of Gavin's dick.  Sweat pooled at Ray's back, his shirt and sweater sticking to it.  He could feel it dripping down his temples, gathering in the hollow of his throat.  Through heavy lids, he could see the sweat shining on Gavin's skin too.  In the vibrant sunlight, it looked like Gavin could be sparkling.

Fuck it all.

Ray pushed forward and swung himself over the center console.  Hips met hips in a sweaty slide of skin.  Their fingers, still wrapped tight on each other's cocks, bumped into each other, a cool, wet contact on Ray's knuckles.  Ray pressed his forehead against Gavin's and tore off the aviators.  Gavin winced at the light and tightened his fingers in response.  Ray's hips jerked forward.

Slowly, Ray unwound his fingers from Gavin's cock and laced their fingers together, dicks right in the middle.  In unison, Ray and Gavin's sweaty palms slid over their dicks, pressed tight together.  It was such a different pressure than fingers, to have another pulsating dick next to Ray's own, to feel his own fingers along with someone else's stroking up and down, tightening and loosening together.

Their faces were still close enough to kiss, lips bumping with every thrust of hips.  Gavin opened his eyes and Ray did what he usually does when he's turned on as fuck.  He started babbling.

"Holy fucking shit you feel so good, Gav.  Your fingers feel so good around my dick and your feel so good pressed up like this.  I can't actually blame Ryan for this because this is a fucking handjob from the gods, I fucking swear, Gav."

The rest of his words were muffled as Gavin was sucking on his tongue.  In the heat of everything, Gavin's mouth was surprisingly cool as Ray's tongue meandered through Gavin's mouth.  It was a hot and lazy kiss as Ray's hand picked up speed.  It was so fucking hot Ray was pretty sure he was about to melt inside his clothes.  Sweat was dripping off him in fat drops.

He wasn't sure how much time passed, only that the familiar tightening in his gut was increasing.  He ground his hips down, their hands trapped in the sweaty heat and the pressure was building up and then Gavin _squeezed_ and Ray came in a hot, quivering mess, Gavin right after.

Hot with nerves on fire, Ray leaned back.  Gavin's lips were swollen red and his hair was matted down with sweat.  Jizz stains were splattered on his shirt and he was staring straight at Ray.

"Holy fuck, I don't remember the last time a handjob felt that good, Vav."

The instant the mistake left his lips Ray knew he was fucked.  Gavin's clever fingers (still covered in semen) gripped at Ray's hips and he leaned towards Ray.

"Did you just call me 'Vav'?"

"Shut up, slip of the tongue," Ray protested.

"You slipped plenty of tongue earlier, love," Gavin laughed.

"Fuck you."

"Oh, come on, X-Ray.  There's no harm in it."

"I repeat: Fuck you."

Ray had pushed himself off of Gavin's lap, tucking his sensitive cock away and zipping up his jeans.  He turned around and started walking.  No way in fucking hell he was going to ride back home with Gavin.  He had that with Jack and wasn't keen on repeating the experience.

It felt really fucking good to be with Gavin.  Like, absurdly good.  Gavin's fingers were fucking magic or some shit because no one had the right to make Ray a mess with just a fucking handjob.  Not even Ryan was that good with his fingers and Ryan had damn talented fingers.

Fuck this heist.  Fuck this crew.  Ray didn't like it.  He was sounding like a broken record in his head but, fuck it, that's all Ray had right now.  He and Ryan had a good system and everyone fit into that system.  They ruled the underbelly of Los Santos with an iron fist.  Every criminal worth his gold answered to them.  They had loyalty and fear and didn't need anything else.  They killed who they wanted, took what they wanted, and never stopped to look back.

There were no crews in Ray's Los Santos, not the Los Santos he had created with Ryan.  Crews were bad.  Too many greedy people ruined good things.  One look at the government proved that.  He'd heard the stories from Ryan about crews turning on each other.  He'd seen crews turn to gangs which turned to mobs with territories and wars of their own.

There was a system to things in Ray's world.  There was a specific fucking way things were supposed to run and Geoff Ramsey and his fucking crew didn't follow those goddamn rules.  They defied the system and Ray didn't know what he was supposed to fucking do about it.  Worst of all, Ray felt himself growing fond of the boys.  Isn't that why he asked Ryan if they could keep them?  He wanted to keep them around.  He wanted to fuck Jack whenever he wanted.  He wanted to cut up Michael without any interruptions.  He wanted to watch Ryan and Gavin exchange lazy handjobs in the living room.  He wanted to tear apart Geoff and leave him begging on the floor.

The desire to own them was surprising and hot in his chest.  He'd never felt that way about anyone, except for Ryan.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how Jack/Ray become the second ship of this fic but somehow it's a thing.

Ryan found Ray sitting underneath an overpass, flipping a knife in his hands.  It had been fucking hours since he ran away from Gavin.  He knew that Ryan was busy with Michael, but he could have at least come to find him.  Ryan walked to Ray, sitting down beside him.  He smelled like sweat and gunpowder.  Ray instantly leaned against Ryan, hot and slightly damp.  Ryan put an arm around him and pulled him closer.

"You're late," Ray muttered, pointing his knife at Ryan's throat.  He tried not to sound bitter but Ryan deserved it.  "I've been here for hours."

"Sorry, dear," Ryan shrugged.  "Late night at the office."

Ray snorted.  "How was Michael?"

"You did a number on him," Ryan hummed approvingly.  "Few of those look like they needed stitches.  He'll probably be scarred from it."

"Good," Ray said sharply.  He was proud of the cuts he did on Michael and imagining the scars that Michael would carry forever just made him fucking giddy.  He glanced up at Ryan quickly.  "Did you fuck him?"

"Unfortunately no," Ryan sighed.  "Geoff is super fucking protective of him right now, thanks to your little stunt.  So I ended up with Jack collecting vehicles for the heist."

"Oh, Jack," Ray gave a soft laugh.  He almost hated how much he fawned over Jack.  The man absolutely consumed him.  Ray thought that Michael and Gavin would have taken over, but instead it was Jack and his kind smile and thick muscle.  He suddenly thought of Jack and Ryan, similar but different, swapping hot kisses while Ray watched.  The idea gave him shivers.  "Did you fuck _him_?"

"I kinda fucked him over," Ryan chuckled.  "Just had to mention your name and he went red.  It's actually kinda funny."

Ray laughed out loud at that, burying his face into Ryan's shoulder.  He knew exactly the kind of flush Ryan was talking about.  The one where Jack's face went all pink and it traveled down his neck.  Ray fucking loved that blush.  Ryan pulled Ray in closer and kept talking.

"Jack was flushing red and muttering about how it wasn't his fault that you came onto him and how was he supposed to fucking resist you when you rubbed up against him like that?  With your fluffy hair and pretty eyes and thin, muscled body pressed up against him.  Not to mention that coy smirk that make your eyes sparkle."

"Was that how you felt?" Ray asked softly, thoughts flung back to when he first met Ryan, pressed up against him and watching Ryan's resolve crumble.

"You have no fucking clue," Ryan whispered back.  "You fucking ruined me that day."

Ray nuzzled into Ryan's shoulder, sighing deeply.  Ryan pulled him closer, dropping a kiss to the top of his head.  Sometimes, Ray realized his life was really fucking bizarre.

"Do you really want to keep these guys around?" Ryan asked quietly.

"I think I like them," Ray shrugged.  "Not like you, but they're kinda fun.  Worth keeping for a while."

"Whatever you want, sweetheart," Ryan whispered.  "After this fucking heist, we'll take one to each safe house."

"And make round to visit each of them," Ray grinned.

"And we can tell stories about the others."

"Watch them break and bleed."

"Make them beg for us to set them free."

Ray reached behind Ryan, locked his fingers behind his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss.  God, he loved this man.  He loved Ryan's insanity and nerdy quirks.  He loved the smiles and grins and low chuckles.  He loved their murder dates and torture sprees.  And he fucking loved how Ryan let him fuck with the AH Crew.

They stayed under that bridge for hours, swapping ideas of how to ruin the crew.  They speculated on torturing Gavin and seeing if Michael would beg for it to stop.  They wondered if Jack was as strong as he looked if he started seeing his boys die.

In the end, Ray didn't care what the fuck they did to this crew.  He wanted those boys for his own.  He fucking wanted it so bad.

Judging from the way Ryan's eyes lit up at the mention of keeping them, he wanted these boys too.

Long after the sun set, Ryan drove Ray back to the apartment.  It was quiet in the suite as they came up the elevator, except for the whispered conversations that came from the bedroom down the hall from their own.

It was the room where Ray had seen Michael and Gavin cuddling.  The giant bed suddenly made so much fucking sense.  Overwhelming jealousy hit Ray hard.  He wanted to be on that fucking bed cuddled up with the others.  Him and Ryan both.  He wanted to be part of everything this damn crew had.

"I think I'm going soft," Ray said as he slid up next to Ryan in their bed.

"Oh?"

"Like, sentimental and shit," Ray shrugged.  "The other day I almost fucking cried about our apartment.  Like, homesickness.  It's fucking weird okay?  I'm freaking out.  I think I need to go on a fucking murder spree or something because all this planning and waiting is driving me fucking insane."

"The lads are supposed to take you out weapons testing tomorrow," Ryan mumbled.

"But I want to steal something," Ray whined.  "My fingers are getting twitchy and you know fucking bad stuff happens then."

"Go to sleep Ray."

"But-"

"Your insomnia is getting worse," Ryan interrupted.  "Go the fuck to sleep."

"I'm serious!" Ray sat up in the bed, ignoring sleepy Ryan cuddling next to him.  "I'm worried that my fucking mental health is getting a little too fucking normal for our lifestyle."

Sighing, Ryan grabbed Ray and pulled him back down into bed.  "It's called love, darling.  Go the fuck to sleep or I'm grabbing your pills."

Love.  Ray allowed Ryan to pull him back to bed.  Certainly, love explained the softness he felt around Ryan, the tenderness in his heart.  Why his heart fluttered at the sight of Ryan with a gun in his hand, mask carefully over his face.  It explained the stupid grin whenever Ryan was in the middle of torturing.

But what the fuck did love have to do with growing soft around the goddamn Fake AH Crew?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someday, Geoff and Ray are going to have quality time together and it will be glorious. But not yet.
> 
> Again, thanks for reading! Love you guys :)

Either Ray had completely forgotten exactly how fucking gorgeous Michael Jones was or he'd just never noticed.  He seemed to glow with the minigun in his hand, spraying down targets with maniacal laughter, curls bouncing with the recoil.  He dropped the gun, smoke still seeping from the barrel, and pulled Gavin in by the waist, kissing him firmly on the mouth.  Ray could see the pink scars over Michael's arms from their first meeting, the flesh soft and tender there.  It matched the healing cuts on Ray's own body.

There was, however, a purple bruise that flowered over Michael's neck that certainly wasn't there a few days ago.  It was new and fresh and Ray would bet his fucking left leg that Geoff gave Michael that hickey.  Fucking protective indeed.

The sniper rifle slung over Ray's shoulder was heavy against his shoulder, cutting into his skin.  He looked around the shooting range with critical eyes.  It was hidden underground somewhere in the north hills of Los Santos.  It was made of concrete with brilliant white lights.  It was clear that Michael was in charge of this area, the confidence as he led them down the elevator showed it.  There were three huge tables of weapons laid out.  Pistols, semi-automatic, full-auto, sniper rifles, every gun that Ray had ever seen laid out in perfect splendor before the shooting range.

It was impressive.  Ray could admit that.  Ryan would be creaming his fucking pants if he could see this.

Michael pulled away from Gavin, lips shiny and red, and pressed a button on the wall.  The floor wobbled and pillars came up from the ground.  Gavin picked up a pistol, hand quick and sure as he loaded and cocked it.  Ray felt desire twitch in his stomach at the sight of Gavin's fingers on the gun.  He remembered how quick Gavin was before.  Ray would be lying if he said he wasn't fucking excited as shit to see Gavin in action.  He threw a cocky wink at Michael and stepped forward.

The pillars created an obstacle course with targets strategically placed around corners.  Each target was a paper cut out of a man.  Apparently, the Crew had a damn scoreboard and competed with each other frequently on the best score.  Gavin ranked highest for the obstacle courses.

Ray watched with rapt attention as Gavin worked his way seamlessly through the course.  Each target was shot cleanly, two in the chest and one in the head.  A waste of bullets, Ray thought.  Why use three when one did the job?  Gavin ran the course critically and quickly.  He hid behind the corners and always had both hands on his gun.  Ray was hit again with the police like precision Gavin dealt each shot.

"Hey, Michael," Ray called out, his voice echoing slightly in the room.  "What did you do before the crew?"

Michael turned slightly to face Ray, face scrunched up.  He huffed and turned back to the obstacle course.  The silent treatment?  Real fucking mature there, Michael.  Ray stepped to the table, lowering his rifle and painstakingly taking it apart.  He'd cleaned her the other day, but his baby deserved some special treatment.  Especially if she was going to be better company than Michael.

It had been a gift from Ryan.  His first rifle (may it rest in peace) was sawed in half during one of the most dangerous times of Ray's shitty life in Los Santos.  It was during those few, terrifying months when he and Ryan worked their way to the top of the totem pole of the crime scene.  They were dodging assassination attempts at every corner, fighting drug lords and mob bosses.  They were two criminals against a fucking army.  The chainsaw incident was Ryan's fault so the new rifle had been an apology of sorts.

Ray polished her until she shone sparkling in the light.  He cleaned out the barrel, realigned the sight, and stocked up on his ammunition.  As tedious as it was to hand load his cartridges, it beat letting someone else touch his baby.  Fifty caliber, armor piercing, explosive, Ray had it all.  Sniper rifles were used for stealth but fuck it, Ray's gun was pink.  Stealth was pretty clear out the window for him.

"I used to be a bodyguard," Michael muttered.  "Some coke dealer needed protection and I was handy.  Not big enough to be an immediate threat and strong enough to keep him fucking safe."

Ray slotted his gun back together.  "What happened to him?"

"Slit his throat while the fucker slept," Michael grinned.  "Fucking Mogar answers to no one.  Especially not bigoted assholes like him.  Then Geoff found me and, well, here we are."

Gavin came sprinting from the course, gun held carelessly in his hand.  He was flushed with bright eyes.  Michael instantly lit up, face smoothing out to a flashy grin.  He had a dimple in one cheek.  Ray smiled to himself.  Pretty fucking cute for a bodyguard.

"What're you lads talking about?" Gavin asked.

"Life before Geoff," Michael shrugged.  "You wanna go again, Gavvers?"

"Nah," Gavin shook his head, tossing his pistol onto the table.  "I think we should let little X-Ray get a turn."

"Fuck you, I'm not little," Ray snapped back, his mouth still smiling.  It was so fucking easy to banter with Gavin, to let playful words slide between them.  It was teasing and joyful and  _fun_.

"No, I guess you're not," Gavin's voice slid an octave lower and Ray felt his ears grow hot.

Snatching up his rifle, he turned to the elevator.  Gavin and Michael both scrambled to follow him.  He jammed the button and they rose.  They were standing beside each other, thrumming with nervous tension.  Michael had been impressive with his minigun and Gavin dominated close combat pistol, but they had nothing on Ray and his sniper.  The doors opened and Ray stepped out into the blazing sun.

Quickly, Ray walked up the nearby hill.  Not too high because Ray didn't need that kind of exercise right now, but just high enough to get a decent shot off.  Fort Zancudo was off in the distance and from here it looked like a fucking perfect target.  By the time Michael and Gavin caught up, huffing and puffing, Ray already had his shot lined up.

"Guard in the left tower," he called and pulled the trigger.

The guard fell over and alarms started blaring.  Ray called out four more shots before the choppers started flying overhead.  Michael and Gavin had twin expressions of shock on their faces.  Then the bullets started flying.  The three of them tumbled down the mountain, Ray sliding his rifle over his back and pulling out his pistol.  He turned and shot at the chopper, cracking the glass.  Gavin was beside him, automatic rifle thundering as he shot the pilot.  Ray let out a whoop as the chopper fell out of the sky.

The Roosevelt squealed up beside the two and they piled in.  Helicopters and cop cars were swarming them and Michael slammed on the gas.

Swerving in and out of traffic, Ray and Gavin shot out the windows, trying to slow their pursuit.  As shitty as the Los Santos police department was, they had a horrible sense of humor.  Apparently, shooting guards at the military base meant you were fucking dead meat.

Cars were exploding around them, the heat swarming over Ray as he fired uselessly with his pistol at the line of cops following them.

"There's a grenade launcher under the seat, Ray," Michael shouted, taking a sharp right turn.

Ray tumbled over the seats and saw the launcher tucked safely under there.  He grabbed it and leaned out the window.  He aimed for the small fleet of choppers heading for them and fired.  There was a soft _whoomf_ as it fired and Ray watched as the grenade sailed through the air.  It hit the first chopper in a massive explosion which collided into the next chopper.  The burning wreckage hit the ground and the entire interstate was on fire.

Adrenaline was pumping through Ray's body and he fired two more, shouting with glee at each explosion.  Michael was cheering in the front seat as the Roosevelt sped off from the carnage.  Ray slid back into his seat, his body thrumming with excitement.

This is what Ray had been missing since Geoff walked into his flat.  The mindless chaos and murder.  Everything had been so still and stagnant as they planned for the heist that Ray forgot what this felt like.

Michael drove them down a cliff side and tucked the Roosevelt in a pipe.  He killed the engine and turned around to look at Ray.  His entire face was bright and he was laughing.

"Did you fuckin' see that chopper go down?" he said.  "Goddamn, Ray, you're a master with that."

"How long do you think the cops will be looking for us?" Gavin asked.

"Long enough," Michael replied.

Before Ray could ask if they meant what he thought they meant, both of them were climbing over the barrier and into the backseat.  Ray got Gavin's knee in his gut and Michael's elbow knocked his glasses off.  He wanted to get pissed but he was still on the high from a police chase and instead grabbed Michael's hips and kissed his neck.  Gavin was warm, pressed up against his back, tongue licking at his own neck.

Of all the fantasies Ray had entertained with these two boys, being in the middle never occurred to him.  But now that he was here, he didn't want to be anywhere else.  Gavin's fingers were digging into his pants with some difficulty, as Ray couldn't stop humping up against Michael's hips.  He pulled back from Michael long enough to yank his shirt off.

Michael's torso was absolutely littered with pale pink scars.  Ray remembered each one of those cuts and he bent down, dragging his tongue over each one.  Gavin had finally slid Ray's pants off and his fingers were wrapped tight around his aching cock.  Ray remembered those fingers and he unabashedly humped into them.

Then his bare back was hitting the leather seat of the Roosevelt and both Gavin and Michael were over him.  Ray didn't remember losing his clothes, or the others losing theirs, but Gavin was naked on his chest, bent over to kiss him deep and filthy.  Michael's tight lips were around his dick and sucking him off.  Holy fucking shit, Ray was losing it.  He was fucking getting double teamed!  This wasn't fair.

He sat up suddenly, hand tangled into Gavin's messy hair and pulling him back.  His other hand grabbed Michael's curls and he forced Michael to take Ray completely, nose buried in his pubic hair.  He ignored the sounds of Michael choking and sank his teeth into Gavin's neck.  Gavin let out a bird-like screech and went completely limp in Ray's arms.  Ray left a trail of bites all down Gavin's chest, paying special attention to his nipples.  Gavin was rutting against Ray's stomach, his ass pressed against Michael's face.

"Go on, Michael," Ray whispered, his voice rough.  "Eat him out."

Michael didn't need telling twice.  He glanced up at Ray, eyes blown out and his mouth covered in saliva before grabbing Gavin's ass and literally shoving his face in.  Gavin arched up into Ray and he felt the broken sobs the wracked Gavin's body.

"Please, X-Ray," Gavin whimpered, trying to shove back against Michael's mouth and grind against Ray at the same time.  "Please, God, let me come."

"I don't know, Vav," Ray slipped into the nickname without thinking, pressing soft kisses along Gavin's collarbones.  "You two fucking teamed up against me.  I think you deserve to be punished."

Right on cue, the door to the Roosevelt opened and a very familiar skull masked peered in.

"Hello boys," Ryan said smoothly, stepping into the car and shutting the door behind him.  "Has someone been naughty?"

Michael and Gavin froze.  Ray slid out from underneath of them and plastered himself to Ryan's side.  He gathered up his clothes, Gavin's clothes, and Michael's clothes and stepped out of the car.  Slowly and deliberately, Ryan helped Ray back into his clothes, his fingers tracing over Ray's thighs and hips, lips barely touching Ray's shoulders.  Once dressed, Ryan's hand hovering over his back, he dropped Gavin and Michael's clothes into the stream of water.

The two were frozen with fear, faces paling in horror as Ray lifted up a lighter.

"When this heist is over, we're leaving," Ray said simply.  "But if you boys behave, then maybe we'll keep you."

Gavin was spluttering and Michael was fuming.  Ray dropped the lighter.  Their clothes didn't burst into flame, but a small spark caught and soon the smell of burning fabric filled the air.  Ray let out a satisfied chuckle and dropped his hand, fingers instantly finding Ryan's.

"You still have your car and your keys," Ray said as Ryan tugged him out of the pipe.  "Remember that."

Ryan led Ray to the helicopter parked precariously in the gorge.  Ignoring the sour taste in the back of his throat, Ray let Ryan fly them back to the fucking Crew headquarters.


	11. Chapter 11

Ray had never actually seen the inside of the heist room.  It was on the opposite side of the bedrooms and that was all where Ray needed to go.  His and Ryan's room across the hall from the other room (which Ray only got glimpses of) and the giant bathroom.  The heist room was always locked and the so-called "gents" spent most of their time in the heist room.  Including Ryan.

The heist was at the point where they waited.  The vehicles were set up.  The weapons were prepared.  The plan was set.  Ray had never waited this fucking long for a heist.  He was used to working with just Ryan, quick in and quick out.  No hassle.  No questions asked.

They were all sitting around the living room, Ray completely dominating a little Halo tournament.  Gavin was losing, horribly, and kept talking to the severed head tucked in next to him.  Michael was on the edge of his seat, face twisted with rage.  Jack sighed as Ray killed him again.

"Told you fuckers you can't beat Ray," Ryan preened, gently rubbing Ray's shoulders.

"How the fuck are you doing that?!" Michael shouted.  Ray killed him once more.  "Fucking God dammit!" Michael threw his controller onto the ground and stomped off, Gavin bounding after him.

Jack shut off the Xbox and let out a deep breath.  "You're pretty good, kid."

"This is nothing, baby," Ray chuckled, tossing the controller on the ground and letting Ryan massage his shoulders.  "You should have seen me last night."

"Funny, Gavin and Michael seemed pretty quiet about your weapons testing," Jack said, slipping in next to Ray.  His body was pressed up next to Ray's.  "Seems you do that a lot to people."

"Nah," Ray shrugged, flashing a cocky grin to Jack.  "Only to the people I like."

"It's true," Ryan bent over and kissed Ray's cheek.  "It's how he shows affection."

Ray reached over, hand on Jack's thigh and squeezed lightly.  Jack didn't jump, but his face flushed pink.  Oh, fuck, that flush.  Ray didn't think as he pushed himself into Jack's lap, cradling his face and kissing him senseless.  Shit, he forgot how good it was to kiss Jack.  The fuzzy beard brushing against his face and soft lips.

Without a pause, Ray rocked his hips against Jack's.

The moan was instantaneous and Jack grabbed Ray's hips, thrusting their hips together.  Ryan moved around the back of the couch, hands on Jack's shoulders.  He leaned forward and pressed thick kisses against Jack's neck.  Ray dragged his lips across Jack's cheek, gripped a hand into Ryan's hair, and kissed him hard.  Jack threw his head back and groaned.

Oh, God, Ray missed this.  He had a real fucking soft spot for Jack and sharing him with Ryan?  So much better.  Ray was getting ready to move this somewhere easier.  He wanted so badly to be with them both, to see how Jack compared to Ryan in bed.

in fact, Ray pulled up to ask just that when the heist room opened and Geoff stepped out.

"Hate to break up the party, boys, but I need to talk to Ray," Geoff said easily.  "Jack, Ryan, continue on."

Ray gave Geoff a hard glare.  He turned back to Jack, head thrown back with Ryan sucking on his neck.  Geoff was going to take him from this beautiful scene?  What an ass.  So Ray leaned down and gave Jack one last kiss, hot and slick and slow.  Geoff coughed and Ray groaned, pushing off Jack and stomping to the heist room.

Glancing behind him, Ray saw that Ryan had climbed over the couch and had taken Ray's spot on Jack's lap.  That was his spot.  Fuck Geoff for taking him away.  He walked into the heist room and Geoff closed it behind them.

The room was rather tiny, one huge table in the middle, whiteboard on the back wall, and maps pasted everywhere else.  He turned around and faced Geoff, back pressed against the table.

"If this is about Michael-" Ray started.

"It's not."

"Or Gavin."

"No."

"Or Jack."

"Shut up, Ray.  This is about you."

Geoff's eyes were a cold blue and they trapped Ray.  The first day they met, Ray knew that Geoff was not to be messed with.  This was a man who sought power and squashed anyone who was in his way.  Part of Ray admired that kind of dedication, but most of Ray just resented it.

"I've spoken with each of my crew at great lengths about their interactions with you," Geoff said, folding his arms.  "It seems as if my boys have been successful.  You've made personal connections with all of them, as has Ryan."

"You got a point, Geoff?"

Geoff took a few steps closer to him, effectively trapping Ray against the table.

"My point is," Geoff said, arms on either side of Ray.  "You and I haven't been able to spend any time together.  I've been feeling pretty fucking left out."

"You've had Ryan," Ray countered.  "And the three others.  Sorry if I'm not grovelling on my knees."

"Funny.  On your knees is exactly where I wanted you."

Horny Ray was in control right now, which meant that he was prepared to fuck anyone who was willing.  Geoff was more than willing and, fuck, Ray wanted it.  He wanted to see if Geoff controlled the bedroom the way he controlled his crew.  Ray wanted to watch Geoff beg for release, choking on Ray's cock.

Shit, Ray wanted it.

He reached up, hand reaching behind Geoff's neck to pull him down, but Geoff didn't move.

"Not today," Geoff grabbed Ray and pushed him aside.  "Actually, you're here on business.  We're gonna talk about where to put you."

"On my knees?" Ray couldn't help the tease.

"For the fucking heist, Christ kid."

The only problem with this little, local bank they chose, was that there weren't any sniping positions around it.  Eventually, they settled on giving Ray a rifle with a decent scope and positioning him in the van.

Ray pressed himself up next to Geoff as he pointed to the escape route Jack had planned.  He entertained himself by looking over the tattoos that decorated Geoff's arms.  He almost wanted to spend nights wrapped up in those arms to trace the ink.  It wasn't unlike the feeling he had when he first met Ryan, or Michael or Jack or Gavin.

At this point, Ray was getting used to it.  The fluttery stomach, the hot desire in his gut, the fucking need to keep and have and hold these men.  Ryan said love, but Ray was pretty convinced it was lust and passion.  It was a desire to own and keep and posses.  With, perhaps, a side of cuddling.

Ideally, Geoff and Ryan would rob the joint and be in the getaway car before the cops showed up.  Ray was only there as a precaution.  He could live with that.

"We'll hit the bank tomorrow," Geoff said.  "If you have any last night traditions, tonight's the night."

"I'll get to it then," Ray grinned.

Ray grabbed Geoff's shoulder, turned him around and smothered himself against him.  He locked his hands behind Geoff's neck and kissed him hard.  Geoff didn't hesitate, grabbing Ray by the hips and yanking them together.

Geoff kissed without limits and without hurry.  It was a slow, sensual slide of teeth and tongue.  Ray practically melted into it, letting Geoff take control and pushing him back onto the table and shoving the papers to the side.

"What say we make this interesting?" Geoff said from between Ray's legs, hand trailing up to rest of Ray's waist.

"Bring it, old man," Ray grunted.

Geoff pulled back from Ray, holding his hands and led him to the door.  "How about we invite the others?  A last night to remember."

Ray thought about it.  All of them on that huge-ass bed.  All six of them, wrapped up around each other.  He could see everything about Jack.  Find out if Michael really was covered in freckles.  Trace every inch of Gavin's skin.  Search for all the tattoos Geoff had beneath his sleeves.

Every single fantasy that Ray had entertained over the week could finally be fulfilled.

But he and Ryan still had their plan.  They had to follow it.  Take the money, run away, and keep these boys for themselves.  But hey, Ray lived a life of 'fuck it' and he wasn't about to change.

Especially if he got a fucking orgy out of it.

"Fuck it, I'm in."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really good at having a plan and then failing to follow it.
> 
> So next chapter is the OT6, then the heist, and I guess it'll be over.
> 
> I am working on an origin story for how Geoff got the crew together (before R&R) and a fic that is Ryan's perspective of how he and Ray met.
> 
> So this universe is gonna be alive for a while.
> 
> Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay no OT6 yet. Ray has some thinking to do.

Everyone was asleep and Ray stole out of the room.  What a night for his insomnia to bother him.  Ryan had left as soon as the event was over, flashing his cocksure grin over the crew.  Ray had passed out, sweat and semen sticking to his skin and a hot arm over his hips.  He really, really, really fucking liked it.  Like, absurdly liked it.  Enough to want to give his empire over to those four cocky assholes.  Then again, isn't that what Geoff Ramsey was asking for?  The Los Santos Empire.

It had been so easy to say no the first time they met.  Geoff wasn't anyone special and neither was his crew.  They had just been an obstacle for Ray and Ryan to crawl over.  But now?  Now this fucking, Fake AH Crew was someone important.  (Geoff said AH stood for Avenger Hookah in the middle of fucking Ray who had offered a weak 'just blaze' in response).

The rooftop was just as quiet and secluded as it had always been.  Ray hopped onto the railing and sat with his feet dangling over the edge.  If he slipped then he would be absolutely done for.  Nothing but a broken body on the sidewalk.  Just another fucking suicide statistic for the charts.  And wouldn't that be a way to go?  Ruler of a criminal empire at only 27 and killed by a thousand foot drop.  Not exactly the most glamorous of deaths, but hey, it'd be something.

Just one more day, Ray kept telling himself.  Heist in the afternoon and gone by nightfall with four boy toys.  A halfway decent plan, if Ray was honest with himself.  Sure, there were plenty of kinks (and not the fun kind) but he and Ryan learned pretty fucking quick that all their plans went to shit.  Better to leave some of it to obscurity.  Michael would probably fight the worst of the lot.  Gavin might turn cold and off himself before getting captured.  Jack could possibly be docile and go along with it.  And Geoff would probably shrug and say that was the plan all along.

But did Ray even want that?

All of Michael was wrapped up in a package of passion.  From his anger to his love, he wore his heart on his sleeve.  The son of a bitch was touchy and vocal and he fucking glowed like a summer sun.  His smiles were as precious as his screams.  His laughter only fueled Ray to make Michael rage harder.  If Ray took away all the joy that Michael exuded, then the rage would soon follow.  What if Ray was left with nothing but a shadow of Michael?  A dim, hollow replica of the real deal?

Not to mention that Ray never found out what Gavin was doing before heisting.  He wanted to hear that story.  Wanted to know what gave Gavin his edge, his ability to shut off emotions, to act with precision and speed.  He wanted to see Gavin doing all his stupid little stunts, to hear him argue with Ryan about trivial knowledge.  He wanted to give Gavin an entire fucking skeleton to match the head.  There was so much to Gavin, so much more to his clumsy, British demeanor that it would be a crime to ruin him in such a way.  Wouldn't it?

And wouldn't Jack eventually break too?  Isn't that what Ray found out on Mount Chiliad?  That Jack's weakness is his boys?  Just as much as it is Geoff's?  That Jack thrived on making them laugh, on keeping them happy?  If Ray took him away from the others, quarantined him and made Jack  _his,_ then wouldn't Jack lose all his charm?  His big, cuddly teddy bear charm that Ray fucking adored.  Ryan was pretty bear like but he was far from the squashy, teddy bear image.

Then Geoff.  Part of what Ray liked about Geoff was his fucking attitude.  That man could argue his way out of a cardboard box.  His voice demanded attention, his attitude demanded respect, but his voice and attitude liked being challenged.  Geoff got off on verbal spats of authority.  It was like foreplay for him.  If he was locked up far away with no one to talk to, then it stands to reason his dominance would lessen.  No more angry, assertive Geoff.

Fuck.  Ray rolled off the railing and back onto the roof, staring up at the inky sky.  Fuck fuck fuck.  There was only one way to do this, wasn't there?  Ray wanted this crew, he wanted them bad.  And he knew Ryan wanted them just as much.  He had seen the way Ryan's eyes softened earlier as he coaxed Jack into orgasm.  He watched Ryan whisper into Michael's ear as he fucked him from behind.

But the only way to keep them was to join with them.

"Fuck you, Geoff Ramsey," Ray muttered out loud.  "Fuck you for being right.  I'll join your fucking Fake AH crew.  I'll share this goddamn glorious empire with you.  Just let me share your bed and I'll be fucking happy."

Ray didn't move from the rooftop all night.  He dozed on and off until the sun rose.  He walked downstairs and took a quick shower, hearing the rest of the crew (including Ryan) in the other room.  He stepped into the heist room, hair still damp, and saw the other five standing around the table.  It looked perfect.  Ryan was between Jack and Gavin, jostling shoulders with the two of them.  Gavin had a hand on Geoff's sleeve who had an arm slung around Michael's hip.  There was one spot open, right between Michael and Ryan, a perfect little spot for him to stand in.

The door shut softly behind him and Ray took his place.


	13. Chapter 13

Ray checked the sights of his gun again.  Michael was twitching beside him while Jack sat in the drivers seat.  Gavin's bag of explosives were empty and the alley walls pinged red with bombs.  As for Gavin, he sat in the front seat, finger on the trigger.

"Fucking, if you blow us up," Geoff warned, staring pointedly at Gavin's jittery leg.

"I would never," Gavin sounded appalled at the very idea.  "Have a little faith, Geoffrey."

"Faith in you?" Ryan scoffed.  "I'd rather start believing in the Easter Bunny."

"Ryan!  Don't be horrible."

"Oh, my god, just shut up!" Ray snapped.  "Look, we're here to do a fucking heist and we're going to do it right.  Geoff, you and Ryan suit up and get going.  Gavin, keep your fucking twitchy finger off the trigger until the money is in the van.  Michael, check up on your ammo.  No point in having a minigun if you run out of bullets."

Geoff looked like he was about to shout at Ray, which, honestly, Ray wouldn't blame him.  But fuck, if he wasn't going to take control over this heist then Ray fucking would.  Someone had to.

Besides, Ray ran the entirety of Los Santos. This heist was child's play for him.

Surprisingly, no one argued and they all fell into rhythm.  Before Ryan slid his mask on, he leaned forward and kissed Ray.  Soft and hot, Ray knew it was a promise.  Ryan pulled back, yanked the mask over his face, and stepped out of the van.

Someday Ray wouldn't worry about Ryan when they went on a heist.  Ray just couldn't afford that.  Worry led to fear which led to foolish mistakes which led to death and failure.  And failure was not an option.  What was surprising was the twinge of worry as Geoff stepped out of the van, rifle casually slung over his shoulder.  If Ray watched either of those men die then the LSPD would burn like fucking hell.

Michael fumbled with the harness as they waited.  Ray leaned over and pulled the straps tight, securing the line to the van.  Gavin took three deep breaths and his entire body went still and silent.  Jack revved the engine.  Tension filled the air and made the hair on Ray's arms stand up.  These boys were nervous as hell, Ray could see it in their eyes.

"Holy shit," he whispered.  "This is your first heist together, isn't it?"

"Well, we couldn't fucking do much with you and Ryan ruling the city," Michael grumbled.

"Still," Ray said.  "First heist is the worst.  It gets easier after this."

"Does that mean you're gonna stay with us?" Gavin said hopefully.

"I didn't say that."

Gavin opened his mouth to reply when alarms started blaring.  Geoff and Ryan, fully masked, came running for the van, duffle bags slung over their shoulders.  Michael stood up, minigun at his hip and harness tying him down.  Ray knelt down and lifted up his rifle.  The bags were thrown in and Geoff and Ryan followed.  The distant sound of sirens echoed in the air.

Jack shifted gears and floored it.  The van pealed down the alleyway and turned onto the main road.  Cackling with glee, Gavin hit the detonator.  The explosion rocked through Ray's chest and he lost his breath for a second.  Smoke billowed in the distance and fucking bits of rubble were falling from the sky like rain.  Sirens wailed and half a dozen cop cars pulled up behind them.

Without hesitation, Michael unloaded on them.  His minigun tore the cops to splinters.  Tires were squealing and glass was shattering.

"ETA five minutes!" Jack shouted as he took a hard left.

"We don't fucking have five minutes!" Ryan shouted back.  "Helicopters are gonna be on our ass in three!"

"I have an idea!" Gavin grinned and clambered out of the front seat, grabbing something from under his seat.  He stood up next to Michael and threw out dozens of tiny mines.

"That's it?!" Ray screeched.  "What the fuck is that?!"

"Just watch!"

A police cruiser dinged one of the mines and it exploded into tiny bits of shrapnel which shredded the tires.  The car skidded and swerved before sliding to a halt, blocking the other cops from passing through.  Ray felt his jaw drop.  That was pretty fucking impressive.  Jack slammed on the gas and the van lurched forward towards Grapeseed.  Within a few minutes they would dump the van, burn it down, and take three separate cars back to their apartment.

It was the end of the line, the light at the end of the tunnel.  This was the moment that made or broke criminals.  Already, Ray could see the complacency settle over the Fake AH Crew.  The premature celebration.  The lack of diligence.  Ray locked eyes with Ryan and nodded.  Ryan nodded back and Ray would bet he was smiling underneath the mask.

"Sorry boys," Ryan said, holding up a grenade.  "Your ride ends here."

Ryan dropped the grenade and gas filled the air.  Ryan tossed Ray a gas mask and he slammed the van doors shut.  The others were coughing and falling over, Jack fumbling with the cars ventilation.  Ryan stepped over, yanked Jack out of the drivers seat and took his place.  Ray stood in the back, finger gently resting on the trigger of his gun.  He looked down at the four choking on their own breath.

"Don't worry," Ray said, voice hollow through the mask.  "It won't kill you, but you'll wish it had."

One by one, their eyes slipped shut and their breathing evened out.  Ray let them sit for a few more minutes before signaling to Ryan.  He rolled down the windows and Ray tied the crew up.  Tossing the mask off, Ray climbed into the front seat, stretching his legs out and resting his gun on his lap.  Ryan reached over and laced their fingers together.  He pressed a dry kiss to the back of Ray's hand.

"I call that a fucking success," Ray grinned.

"I'm inclined to agree, mon lapin," Ryan grinned back.

Ray made a face at the pet name but let it slide.  "Where shall we take them?"

"636?"

Ray's stomach flipped.  636 was their first warehouse.  That was their lovers retreat, of sorts.  That's where Ray brought Beth.  That's where anniversaries were held.  636 was their refuge, their own private quarter in this mad world.  Ray nodded, heart skipping with excitement.

"636."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might end up longer than I thought.
> 
> Quick note: Ryan speaks French. I have this other fic (part three of the series) that explores that idea more, but it's still in the works. He's calling Ray "my rabbit" (which is a blatant reference to the Hybrid AU because why not).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so sad to see Ray leave AH and RT but I couldn't be more excited for his future in streaming and doing what he loves most. It's been hard to deal with and I'm still a little bit in denial about it. That being said, all my fics will still have him in it, because even though he's gone, he's still part of the team and part of the family.

Ray had never felt so conflicted in his life.  Well, maybe once, when he first met Ryan.  But in his defense, Ryan was only one guy.  This was four.  Ray was totally justified in freaking the fuck out.  Gavin, Geoff, Michael and Jack were tied up on the floor of 636, still unconscious.  The drug would wear off in a few minutes.  Ray wasn't sure what he wanted to have happen after that.

On the one hand, this was the plan.  This was the entire fucking plan.  They were going to take this crew apart from the inside out and continue their reign of absolute terror.

And then Ray had to fucking fall in love.  Or something.

"Hey, Rye?" Ray called out.

"What's up?" Ryan called back.

"Now what?"

Ryan paused from where he was messing with the table of torture implements.  He turned around slowly and faced Ray, arms folded over his broad chest.  "What do you mean?"

Ray pushed himself off the wall he was leaning up against and took a few steps towards Ryan, trying desperately to sort through his thoughts.

"I mean, we caught them, so now what?" Ray asked, looking over the prone forms of the Fake AH Crew.  "Are we going to kill them or keep them or -"

"Of course we're keeping them," Ryan interrupted.  "After all the shit we went through with these bastards?  Yeah, we're fucking keeping them."

"How?" Ray asked.  "I just... God, Ryan.  I want them so bad.  And not just like this.  I mean, I want them all.  I want the whole fucking crew and all the pros and cons of it.  I want us to live in their stupid ass apartment and do stupid ass heists.  I want to sleep on their giant bed with them and wake up tangled in everyone.  I just... fucking Geoff got me good.  I want this crew."

"Oh."

Ray stole a glance at Ryan.  This was the first time Ray had said what was on his heart and mind.  The doubts and worries and the crushing panic of feeling his heart expand and allowing him to love four more people with the same ferocity as he felt for Ryan.    Ryan's eyes were hard and stared deep into Ray's.  No warmth or love.  Ryan's face was complete empty.  It was far too similar to when Ray first met Ryan, the faceless Vagabond who was sent to kill him.

"I didn't expect it," Ray went on.  "I was totally on board leaving them high and dry.  We've worked too hard for too long to let it be ruined but fuck, I wouldn't mind sharing our kingdom with these asshats.  And from what I saw, you seem pretty okay with it too."

"Ray-"

"But hey, man, if you want to stick with the plan, that's fine too.  I mean, as long as I have you I'll be fine."

Warm, calloused hands grabbed Ray's face and he was dragged into a firm kiss.

"Oh, baby," Ryan mumbled into Ray's mouth.  "Me too, mon amour, me too.  I didn't think so at first, but they get to you after a while and fucking Geoff with his charming words-"

"And Jack's gentle smile-"

"And Gavin's crazy explosions-"

"And Michael's laughter-"

Ray laughed then, breathless and disbelieving, as Ryan showered his face with kisses.  The tension and terror that Ray had been feeling since joining this crew dripped off his shoulders and he felt loose and free.  From the ground, Michael groaned and sat up.  Ray and Ryan both turned to face him.  The others were slowly waking up as well, sitting up with their hands tied up and looking around the warehouse.

"What the fuck?" Michael asked.

"Hey, boys," Ryan said.  "Welcome to 636."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advanced apologies for the short chapter. I have not forgotten this fic (or the others) I've just been in a bit of writers block and I'm working two jobs so it's been a bit hectic for me.
> 
> You can actually thank a coworker of mine who told me the joke that helped inspire this chapter.

Ray was no stranger to fear and terror.  But seeing it in the eyes of four of the men he loved most hurt him more than he thought it would.  Michael looked like he was going to explode with anger and sadness, his face all scrunched up with fury.  Gavin looked petrified, eyes wide with unabashed terror.  Jack looked disappointed, head bowed down and accepting of his fate.  Geoff though, fucking Geoff, he was the worst.  Geoff had the look of complete, utter betrayal in his eyes.  Belated, Ray remembered that Geoff had built up a crew underneath of him and he hadn't caught wind of it.  Geoff was someone who clearly knew how to deal with traitors.

"What the  _fuck_ is going on?" he demanded, voice low.

"Listen," Ray walked towards them, casually flipping a knife in the air.  "We were never going to let you take over our kingdom.  Los Santos is ours, Geoff Ramsey, and you were ever a means to an end."

"You mean...?" Gavin asked, voice breaking pitch.

"We were never going to join your crew," Ryan said simply with a shrug of his shoulders.  "Why bother joining up with a crew when we had already achieved the best?"

"You motherfuckers," Geoff sighed emphatically.  "After all we fucking did for you?"

"Like what?" Ray scoffed.  "Take us from our home, threaten us, fucking guide you guys on your first heist.  I mean, shit, you should be thanking us for not slitting your throats the second we walked into your fucking place!"

"I thought..." Jack started, but he swallowed and looked back down.

"Thought what?" Ray turned to him.  "That it meant something?  That we were bonding or connecting or some shit?"

"Yes!" Gavin cried.

"Well then, I have on question for you," Ray said.  He held the knife towards the boys, walking slowly around them.  "What is the difference between jam and jelly?"

They looked at Ray with completely blank expressions.  Ryan, from behind them, suppressed a laugh.  Finally, Gavin spoke up.  "Isn't it the way they're made or some shit like that?"

Ray smirks.

"I can't jelly my dick up your ass."

There's a brief pause of silence then Michael fucking loses it.

"Holy fuck man, that is the lamest joke I have ever heard and I live with Gavin," he managed between peals of laughter.

"To be honest, my first thought was that jelly is not a proper lubricant," Jack admitted.

"But it'd be fucking delicious," Michael sang.  "I'd eat jelly out of your ass any day."

"Wait, wait,  _wait,_ " Geoff shouted over the laughter.  "Does this mean you guys aren't killing us?"

"God, no," Ryan said.  "Everything we said was true.  We totally planned on using you and leaving you."

"But plans go awry," Ray reached out and cut the rope.  "Especially when you kind of, sort of, accidentally fall a little in love with the psychos you are trying to kill."

"Aw, I knew X-Ray wouldn't double-cross us!" Gavin jumped up and threw his arms around Ray.

Before Ray knew it, the entire crew was on top of him in a big cuddle pile.  And this, he realized, was where he belonged.  With Gavin tightly wrapped up in his arms and Ryan constant and sure behind his back with Michael tucked into one side and Jack on the other and Geoff fucking surrounding them all.  This was where Ray and Ryan were supposed to be.  Right in the middle of the fucking Fake AH Crew.

"Hey guys," Ray muttered.  "I think I've got a name for us."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Thanks again for sticking with it. Thank you for all the comments and kudos and putting up with me not updating recently. I just had a lot of stress with work and friends and it took a severe blow to my mental health, but things are better now.
> 
> Thanks again guys, it's been a blast :)

Ray sighed and snuggled closer to the body next to him.  Judging from the muscle tone and aftershave, it was Michael.  Slowly blinking awake, Ray looked around.  The bed was empty except for the two of them.  The Gents had done a little heist last night, just enough to remind Los Santos who owns this joint.  They were probably still hiding out from that shit storm.  Which meant that Gavin was probably watching the television and making a myriad of phone calls to slow down the manhunt.

Which left Ray with Michael in their luxurious bed.

Softly, Ray traced the silvery-white scars that were scattered on Michael's skin.  Scars from the first day they met.

"That tickles," Michael mumbled, grabbing Ray's hand and tucking it under his side.

"Aren't you the morning person?" Ray couldn't help but tease.

"Not this morning," Michael blearily opened one eye.  "Unless you can persuade me."

"Nah," Ray shook his head and leaned up against Michael's side.  "Not this morning."

"I can see that Ryan's sarcasm has rubbed off on you."

"You spend a couple years with him and see how well you fare."

Michael just laughed and pulled Ray closer.

Later, Gavin would come charging in, complaining about Kdin or Jeremy and trying to work on getting the Gents home safe and insist that the bed was built for sex not cuddles and, really, who was Ray to deny Gavin anything?  They would pass out, sweaty and naked, and wait for the others.  Then Geoff would burst in with bags of takeout and Ryan would have a new souvenir for Gavin's growing collection of body parts while Jack convinced everyone that the bed was  _not_  made for dinner.

It was hardly the life that Ray thought he would have in Los Santos.  Certainly not what he imagined after meeting Ryan Haywood.  But fuck it, Ray was actually happy and, shit, isn't that what this whole Wonderland was about?  Finding the Mad Hatter's Crew and not stopping until they were on top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had this plan of assigning everyone a character from Alice in Wonderland but never got the chance to really explore it. Geoff is the Mad Hatter, Jack is the Rabbit, Gavin and Michael are Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum, Ryan is the Cheshire Cat, and Ray is Alice.
> 
> Also, Ray's pink sniper rifle is named Tina. Also was going to make it in the fic but never happened.
> 
> Again, thanks for staying with me. Love you :)


End file.
